Heirs to the House of El
by Kala Lane-Kent
Summary: The sequel to 'LS'. Ten years ago, a devil's bargain and one little secret won them ten years of freedom. Now that same secret may come back to destroy all they've built.
1. Authors' Intro

_**Authors' notes:**_

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**Welcome back, all!**

**This is the sequel to **_**Little Secrets**_**, the epic fanfiction novel that took two years and 485,000 words to write. If you haven't read **_**LS**_**, we strongly suggest that you do so before beginning **_**Heirs to the House of El**_**. **

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**For those of you who have already read **_**LS**_**, this is your hall pass to skip directly to the next chapter, where the real story is. Just know two things. FIRST, the posting schedule will be **_**biweekly**_** this time around. You can expect a chapter every **_**other**_** Saturday, barring extreme extenuating circumstances. And we do mean extreme – we made **_**LS**_**' weekly posting schedule while on vacation, while without an internet connection, and while stoned to the gills on pain meds (back injuries are not our friends). We even managed it while suffering from writers' block, although we did have to skip a week every now and then. SECOND, this story has **_**two**_** first-person prologues, one from the perspective of each Heir. The rest of the fic will be in third-person perspective.**

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**For the rest of you, hello and welcome! To catch you up with the rest of the class, here is a brief (hah!) summary of **_**Little Secrets**_**. The backstory and plot is drawn from a blend of STM, SII, SII:DC, SR, and unused scenes from the scripts of the above movies, as well as our own original ideas. **

**Lois unmasked Clark Kent as Superman by shooting him (with a blank) while posing as newlyweds in Niagara Falls, and while in shock at that unexpected confirmation of her suspicions, she blurted out that she was in love with him. They flew to the Fortress to discuss matters, Kal-El surrendered his powers to be with Lois, and unexpected passions arose, along with unforeseen consequences. The end result: three Kryptonian villains imprisoned, Kal-El with his powers restored, and Lois with her memories erased. **

**Superman left the planet shortly thereafter, unable to deal with having to give up Lois, and pursuing the possibility of a still-existing Krypton. While searching for him, Lois discovered she was pregnant. With twins. And with no memory of how that could be possible. In dealing with that traumatic revelation, Lois recovered her memories of the night in the Fortress and was righteously furious with Kal-El.**

**When Superman returns six years later, now knowing for himself that his home planet has been transmuted into the one substance that can kill him, he finds things very changed. Lois is engaged to Richard White, Perry's nephew, and she has two children, Jason and Kala, whom Clark assumes are Richard's. Lois is also very angry at both Clark and Superman, though he does not yet know that she remembers **_**everything**_**. Lois reveals this, very painfully, to Clark while they are attending the award ceremony where she accepts the Pulitzer Prize for her editorial **_**Why the World Doesn't Need Superman**_**. A bad night is made even worse by Lex Luthor showing up at the ceremony to threaten Lois and her children.**

**The revelation causes Clark to attempt to resign on Monday morning, but Perry convinces him to transfer into International, which is presently run by a seemingly-oblivious Richard White. Things are very awkward for everyone except the twins themselves, who know more than any of the adults suspect. The situation is **_**not**_** helped by the reappearance in Clark's life of his high school crush, Lana Lang, now a wealthy and successful designer. Lana knows on meeting Clark again that his heart belongs to Lois, and she is desperately trying to deny her own attraction to another of Lois' men: Richard.**

**The kidnapping of the twins by Lex Luthor forces all four to work together. While trying to rescue Jason and Kala from the villain's diabolical scheme, everyone's strength, endurance, and courage will be tested to the limit. Lives are threatened, secrets (including Superman's identity and the twins' parentage) are revealed, and Lois' grudge against Kal-El is finally rescinded. **

**The battle against Luthor ends with Lois and the children safe, Richard and Lana enlightened, and the Man of Steel in a hospital in a comatose state after flinging an island made of kryptonite out to Saturn. Lex Luthor is, sadly, still at large, and Metropolis seems as though it will never be the same.**

**From there it's a (not-so-)simple matter of healing bodies and hearts for everyone concerned. All the adults are guided by their desire to do what's best for the twins, and this prompts Richard to make a heart-wrenching decision. He breaks his engagement to Lois to allow her to be with the true love of her life, Kal-El. He also reveals that he and Lana not only know the truth of Clark's identity, they have been covering for his absences and will continue to keep his secret out of respect for him and his children. Clark, in turn, promises that Richard will never be shut out of the twins' lives; he knows better than most how important the people who raised you are, even if they're not your biological parents.**

**Other minor details are worked out in the final arc: convincing everyone those are **_**Clark's**_** kids, letting Lois' mother in on the secret because she knows they aren't, explaining to Martha Kent why she's never met her six-year-old grandkids, and Richard and Lana succumbing to the inevitable and getting married.**

**By the end of **_**LS**_**, Clark is part of a much larger family, comprised of relatives in both blood and newsprint. The Last Son of Krypton is no longer alone, and the new heirs to the House of El can count on the love and support of two sets of parents. Things seem nearly perfect by the wedding that closes the story…**

…**but life is never that simple. And so the saga continues…**

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**As always, the source works for this universe belong to Warner Bros, Richard Donner, Tom Mankiewicz, Bryan Singer, Mike Doughtry, Dan Harris, etc. Now get off your butt, WB, and give us our _Man of Steel_.**

**Class dismissed!**

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	2. Kala: Welcome to the Black Parade

**Here we go, all. We're both insanely excited and nervous as hell.** **(LOL)** **Enjoy and welcome back!**

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**_Kala Josephine Lane-Kent-Welcome to the Black Parade_**

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__When I was a young boy,  
My father took me into the city  
To see a marching band.  
He said,  
"Son, when you grow up,  
Would you be the saviour of the broken,  
The beaten and the damned?"_**

~ My Chemical Romance, **_Welcome to the Black Parade_**

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_Cold, so cold, icy water soaking through clothes to skin, salt stinging eyes, **panic**: no air. Just water, cold seawater, holding breath and kicking hard, hands bound, shoes heavy. Trapped, doomed, freezing – dying. Dying, lungs burning, darkness descending, and the water conducting one sound hellishly clear: **Luthor's laughter**…_

I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air, my skin clammy with sweat, and I panted in terror until reality asserted itself: I was almost sixteen, not six and helpless; this was my familiar bedroom, not the cold Atlantic Ocean; and I had been dreaming, not drowning. For the millionth time, I cursed Luthor; even ten years later, the nightmares were still just as intense. Some part of me would always be that little girl, heroic enough to attack a madman to protect her father, but too weak to stop herself from being flung off a kryptonite island and into the merciless ocean.

It took a moment to regain my breath and my composure, but once I did, I got up and pulled a bathrobe over my nightgown. It was automatic after all this time, just one of those weird twin things. If I had a nightmare, Jason did too. So I was already heading for his room when I first heard his voice.

He wasn't quite awake yet, still murmuring in his sleep, but his breath was fast and shallow and his heart was racing. Still stuck in his version of our endless nightmare, my twin would eventually thrash himself awake, probably wrecking his bed and his room in the process. Super-strength can be a bitch sometimes.

Before he got to that point, I was in his room, sitting on the side of his bed and rubbing his back. "It's a nightmare, Jase," I whispered, using the nickname I'd given him. Only I called him Jase, and only he called me Kal. "The same old dream. Daddy's okay, Mom's safe, Luthor's long gone, we're grown up, and it's just a stupid nightmare."

Gradually he stopped tossing and turning, curling up on his side. I glanced at his clock; it was almost four in the morning. Not much point now in dragging myself back across the hall to my room for another hour's sleep. The nightmare had been known to strike twice in the same night, so we were better off together. Sighing, I lay down next to my brother and cuddled up to his back, listening to his breathing deepen and slow as I tried to get back to sleep.

Jason's room was a reflection of his personality. The walls were painted a handsome forest green (I'd teased him unmercifully about painting his room to match his iguana) and bookshelves dominated the walls. Half of them were science fiction, the other half dry science texts, with a couple of books about chess and some very literary fiction sprinkled in for variety. Gazeera's cage took up part of one wall, the red heat lamp casting an eerie glow over the whole room. Fortunately, this nightmare hadn't gotten to the point where the noise woke Gazeera, and the lizard was still draped over his sleeping branch, semi-comatose.

This was nothing like my room – a riot of black and red and violet, with horror movie posters on the walls and sculptures and photos mingling with books on the shelves – but I still felt comfortable here. Jason and I had shared a room for most of our lives, only separating when Mom offered to let us decorate our own rooms. Even when we moved in here and were first given separate rooms, we both slept in the same one for a year. That was right after the Luthor debacle, though, and not even the shrink Mom took us to would deny us the right to stay together.

I burrowed under the thick sand-and-sage colored comforter and curled up on my side, my back against Jason's. We looked like mirror images, almost, his hair finally as dark as mine. Always together, me and Jason; we kept no secrets from each other, and in spite of all our quarreling we never even tried to pretend we didn't love each other. And we protected each other, no question about it. He'd killed a man to save me once (not that we knew that Brutus was dead at first), and I'd gotten into more than a few fights at school over the years protecting him. Jason wouldn't fight if he could help it; what was fair, he'd say, about a kid who could throw a grand piano taking on an ordinary first-grader? As his strength grew, so did his reluctance to defend himself when the school bullies taunted him. He'd leap to _my_ defense, but wouldn't raise a hand to protect himself. I didn't have the strength, so I was his champion. It was much less likely that I'd really hurt someone, but everyone quickly learned not to mess with Jason Kent, or his sister would beat them up.

Still don't have the super-strength, not really. Oh, I'm stronger than an ordinary teenage girl, but not strong enough to juggle cars. I've got other advantages: super-speed and hearing almost at Dad's level, a little of the x-ray vision, some invulnerability, and heat vision. I can't weld steel with my eyeballs like Dad and Jason, but I can burn through most things. And I don't have to look for a lighter when I steal one of Mom's cigarettes – a nice perk. She rarely smokes anymore, so she doesn't count the ones in the pack, but if the lighter went missing she'd know.

Not that I smoke all that much. I know it's bad for you, but it goes with my Goth image and besides, I like the taste of Mom's cloves. The menthol ones are positively yummy. And it's not like having a couple cigarettes a month is gonna hurt a half-Kryptonian. The older Jason and I get, the more sunbaths Dad lets us have up above the clouds, the more our off-world legacy protects us. That's the number-one benefit of Superman being my dad – I'm immune to a lot of things.

If only we could share that invulnerability…

I caught myself blinking back tears again, and rolled over to nuzzle against Jason's shoulder. In his sleep, he turned onto his back and hugged me, and the closeness was comforting. There's still an empty ache somewhere deep inside, and I still have days when I pick up the phone to call her, only to remember she's gone.

I remember it too perfectly, lounging in the bedroom with the window open, letting the cool Milanese evening breeze in, and lazily contemplating which of the cute Italian boys I wanted to talk to. Summer break in Italy with Richard and Lana, a wonderful vacation, and it had seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong. Then I heard Dad's voice, just outside, and it was _that_ tone. It had to be something very serious for him to arrive in uniform, and Jason and I both scrambled to meet him. I couldn't hear exactly what he told Lana, but I heard "hospital" and "hurry" and after that my heart was pounding so hard its beat blanked out the rest of it. I saw fear and grief on my father's face, and heartbreak on Lana's, and the next thing I knew Dad was wrapping his cape around me and Jason and flying us back to Metropolis.

That trip was _fast_, way faster than we'd ever flown before, mere minutes to cross an ocean. Then we were in the hospital, and I saw Nana lying there. My brave, wise Nana, always so strong, always so certain, hooked up to a dozen machines. I saw her with a pitiless new clarity: the wrinkles around her eyes, the sparseness of her white hair, the tension in her mouth where she'd been holding the pain between clenched teeth. And she was so _thin_, something I hadn't noticed before I left for vacation. Even her eyes, that strange hazel that Mom and I both inherited, were glassy with drugs and pain instead of the usual Lane keenness.

Worse than that was Mom. She was sitting beside the bed, holding Nana's hand, rocking slightly in her chair. She didn't make a sound – Lois Lane, who could bellow across the city room like the best of the guys, was utterly silent. Only I could hear her tears falling, splashing across the back of Nana's hand.

"It's all right, sweetheart," Nana whispered, and her voice was so thready it made my heart skip a beat. Jason and I came toward her slowly, almost afraid to intrude. Truth be told, we weren't all that eager to get better acquainted with death, either. And that's what was in the room with us – death.

Nana held out her other hand. "Jason, Kala – my little darlings. Come here, it's okay. It's all going to be all right."

Jason went down on one knee beside her hospital bed, and she put her arm around his shoulders. I was right beside him, her hand on my cheek, feeling the papery thinness of her skin and hating it. Hating death and life and anyone and everything around me for taking her away. Not my Nana, she didn't deserve this…

Aunt Lucy and Uncle Ron were there, and Nora and Joanna and Michelle. Sam was off in college – he made it there the next morning, and it was only after the funeral that we found out Lana had paid for his plane ticket, finding a seat for him on the very next flight he could catch. Lana and Richard and Kristin made it there, too, chartering a plane that night, but Kristin didn't stay. She and Lucy's two youngest girls wound up going home with Ron that night – it was after midnight when they left, and they had to get some sleep.

Nana told us all that she'd known about the cancer for a year. It was already too far advanced to treat with surgery when it was discovered, so she'd kept it a secret. She hadn't wanted all of us weeping and brooding and panicking every time she coughed. It was too late for radiation or chemo, so she chose to go gracefully. She'd thought she had a few months left, and had intended to make the announcement when Jason and I came home from our big trip to Italy.

The cancer surprised her, though. She woke up one morning feeling very run-down, and went to see her doctor. While she was there, Nana just kept feeling sicker and sicker, and the doctor wound up transferring her to the hospital. Blood tests revealed that her organs were shutting down – she had a few days. Maybe.

Our entire family silently listened to her whispery voice. We were all in shock. I knew that Dad and Jason and I were thinking the same thing: with all these powers, there was nothing we could do to save her. Nothing.

Then I understood how Dad had felt when his father died right in front of him, and how frightened he'd been when Grandma broke her hip two years ago. And the pain I was already feeling doubled; I was losing Nana, and at that moment I had to acknowledge that someday I'd lose Mom. I looked across the bed at her, and saw her face ravaged by grief. Fearless Reporter Lois Lane looked every one of her years, then, and I felt a shudder pass through me. No one knew how long Dad would live, but Mom … oh, Mom was all too mortal…

If I could've somehow made everything right between us at that instant, I would've. It would be a great story: "And then, by my grandmother's deathbed, my Mom and I swore to love each other like we used to, and stop fighting all the time. And they all lived happily ever after." But life isn't like a fairytale. Mom and I had been feuding for years, and not even _Superman_ had been able to bridge the widening gap between us. I'm not even sure when it started, only that as I progressed from cute kid to (admittedly) snarky teenager, Mom started to be a little sharper with me. I got sarcastic, she started riding my case all the time, and then I got defiant. Would it have _killed _her to get off my back once in a while? She didn't understand the first thing about me, and she was always suspicious, always _expecting _me to get in trouble. I figured, why disappoint her? Anyway, now, at fifteen, I couldn't get through a week without at least one voices-raised argument with her.

Nana did manage this much, however: there was peace between us in that hospital room. All that night, and the following day, we stayed. Lucy's girls came back the next morning in time to see Sam, and Dad had to step out a few times, but he was there as much as he could be. He coaxed Mom to eat a little bit, but for the most part she stayed glued to Nana's side. One of the nurses tried to tell us to go home around lunchtime, but the flat, threatening Lane glare from multiple sets of eyes silenced her.

The afternoon of that terrible Thursday, Uncle Perry came in. He must've heard from Dad or Ron, I guess; someone had to explain why his International and City Editors weren't at work. Aunt Loueen drove him, but she waited in the hall.

Perry looked his age at that moment, and I remember feeling an icy shiver run down my back. Was _everyone_ getting older, growing closer to their date with the reaper? Even the indestructible Perry White, in his late sixties and still Editor-in-Chief of the largest newspaper in town? He stood in the doorway for a long moment, just looking at Nana, and the rest of us quietly found reasons to step out. All except Mom; she stayed. She hadn't left the room since she arrived.

Jason and I hung around in the hall while Ron spoke to Loueen. Just because we were out of the room didn't mean we weren't keeping watch over Nana, though. I had this insane thought that the minute I stopped watching, she'd be gone, as if it was my will alone that kept her alive from one moment to the next. I dreaded turning my back even for the few seconds it took to walk outside.

Dad came and put an arm around each of our shoulders, Jason and I standing just outside the door. I'm pretty sure all three of us were watching through the wall as well as listening when Perry went to the bedside and put his hand on Mom's shoulder, squeezing gently. But he looked at Nana, not at Mom. "Elinore," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"Peregrine," she replied, trying valiantly to sound stronger than she was. "A delight as always." She held out her trembling hand and he took it, and for a long moment they simply stared at each other.

"You had to be an Army wife to the end," Uncle Perry finally said. "Stubborn and secretive. No pity for General Lane's widow, is that it?"

"No pity," Nana replied. "Not for Sam's widow, and not for Ella Tremaine, either. I've had a long life, I've raised a wonderful family, and I've had good friends along the way. Now I'm going to a better place than this, Peregrine. I've got family and friends waiting there, too."

Another silence descended on them, and Mom finally seemed to notice who was there. She got up, slowly, and hugged Perry, who never let go of Nana's hand. Then Mom came outside, moving like a sleepwalker. Dad had both of us, so Richard caught her elbow and pulled her into a hug. I'd never seen her look so utterly beaten, so weary and defeated.

I looked back into the hospital room just in time to see Uncle Perry lean down and kiss Nana. I knew – the whole family knew – that they had always been fond of each other, but _that_ was a surprise. He drew back from her, tears shining in his eyes, and whispered huskily, "I've always loved you."

"And I've always loved you," she whispered back, her hand tightening on his. "For being a good friend to me and my family, and for being a father to Lois when Sam couldn't. Thank you for that, Peregrine. I wouldn't have asked it of you."

"She's a good kid," he replied. "I'm proud of her."

"So am I," Nana said, and her voice was getting fainter. She rallied with visible effort, and told him, "Take care of her for me, Peregrine. And take care of that lovely girl you married, and the son she gave you. Be happy with the life you have. Don't dwell on what might've been; don't miss me too much."

"I'll try." He squeezed her hand, bending to kiss her knuckles. "But you're too grand a lady not to be missed. The world won't be the same without you."

"Flatterer," Nana chuckled.

"Only truth," he said, very quietly.

He didn't stay long; Nana was putting on a show of strength for her old admirer, and it exhausted her. Uncle Perry took Mom aside for a few moments, talking to her gently, and he hugged her and held her until she got some of her composure back. The nurses came by then and insisted that we remain outside for a few minutes while they "took care of things". All of us headed down to the cafeteria for a joyless meal. Even Lana was silent, and she had always been the one we could count on to be optimistic, the one who took responsibility for the whole family's emotional well-being. Then again, Lana had grown quite close to Nana, who considered her an adopted daughter.

When we trudged back upstairs, Nana looked a little better, but that was only because she'd had another dose of medication. She asked to speak with all of us one-on-one, and we obliged her. Mom went first, and a stern glance from Dad told me that I'd better keep my super-hearing to myself.

It seemed like forever while each of the adults solemnly went in to talk to Nana, most of them leaving the room unashamedly daubing tears from their eyes. At least Mom seemed to have some of her old Mad Dog Lane spine back; she wasn't on the verge of collapse any longer. Aunt Lucy had some of her composure back after her visit, too, and instead of huddling in Uncle Ron's embrace she went to her three daughters and hugged them. Lana was more of her old self after talking to Nana, too, and she paused to kiss my cheek and hug me on her way out of the room.

My turn finally came, and I went in to sit at Nana's bedside. I had no idea what to say to her, or what she meant to say to me. But at least I wasn't afraid to come close to her anymore. She was still my Nana, even with so many machines crowding around her. The glassy look was gone; her hazel eyes were perceptive as ever, and they searched my face for a long moment before either of us said a word.

Nana's hand came up to stroke my cheek, and she smiled. "You have the Tremaine eyes," she told me, and it startled me to realize that the strange hazel was _her_ family's legacy, not General Lane's. I didn't have a chance to feel stupid for missing something so obvious, though, because she continued speaking. "The Tremaine spine, too. I see a lot of myself in you, Kala Josephine. And I'll deny it if you ever breathe a word to anyone else, but you were always my favorite."

I preened under the praise, actually. I wanted to be like Nana – I love all my family, but Nana was my favorite after Dad, and I felt like we were especially close. She was always the one who could jolly me out of a cranky mood, always glad to spend time with me, and after I'd turned fourteen and couldn't seem to get along with any other female in the Lane family, my relationship with Nana never suffered in the slightest. She never seemed shocked by my choice of clothing or my taste in music, and she actually talked to me like a grownup.

Best of all, though, she was the _only_ person in the whole family who didn't tell me all the time about how I was the spitting image of Mom, or how I was _so_ my mother's daughter – those constant comparisons drive me _nuts_. I mean, seriously. I'm not a Lois Lane clone, and I got sick of _that_ particular little supposed 'compliment' by the time I was thirteen.

Nana caught my chin and my attention, bringing my wandering mind back to the present moment. "Kala, my dear, you also have the Lane neck and the Lane skull – the one's stiff and the other's thick. If you let them, those can become your greatest weaknesses. You are a brilliant young lady, Kala, but no one on the face of this earth knows _everything_. Not even your grandfather on your father's side knows it all. Try to keep an open mind and an open heart. And try to learn to forgive, to give way a little here and there."

She paused to cough, and I watched her with open-mouthed shock. Nana, one of the strongest, most determined, most absolutely indomitable women I knew, telling me to _give in_? What the hell? Nana got her breath back and squeezed my hand. "I used to be a proud young woman, you know. Vain as a peacock, too. And when I wanted something, I was so stubborn! My aunt Marion told me once that I was like an oak tree, strong and straight, resisting everything. That was the strength it took to marry my Sam; my family never liked him, and I had to push past all of their opposition to get my way. But my aunt, she was the only one who thought if I loved the boy I should marry him, and no matter if he was just an Army captain from a family no one had ever heard of. She was glad I managed to out-stubborn the rest of the family, but she warned me about myself. She said that oak trees get blown over by hurricanes. They lose branches, and if the winds are strong enough, the trees get ripped out by the roots."

I nodded, not understanding, but knowing she was telling me the story for a reason. "Now, willow trees almost never get blown over," Nana continued. "They're flexible; they bend before the storm. Bend, but never break. And if you cut down willow saplings, they grow back twice as strong. I listened to my aunt and I nodded like you're nodding now, and I thought to myself that my way was best. I didn't learn the value of yielding to the storm and springing back again until your mother was born. And Lord, we had storms aplenty then…"

Her eyes slid closed, and she breathed shallowly, her fingers slack in my hand. I thought she might've fallen asleep, just dozed off mid-story, but then Nana took a deep breath and looked at me again. "You're a good girl, Kala Josephine Lane-Kent," she told me, then smiled. It was the same brilliant smile I'd known since childhood, when I'd brought her a painting or a test I'd made an A+ on. Tears started to spill down my cheeks at the thought that this might be the last time I saw that wonderful smile. "You'll turn out just fine," Nana said. "You're going to grow up into a beautiful young lady – you're already more than halfway there. And you're going to accomplish everything you want in life. You will be someone people are glad to have in their lives, darling, someone others look up to. And I will always love you. A little thing like dying doesn't change that."

I broke down and wept then, bent over and rested my head against her frail shoulder as the sobs shook me. She put one arm around me and shushed me, crooning that oldest lullaby. Who would've thought a Moody Blues song could be such a comfort? When I got myself halfway under control again, Nana handed me the box of tissues they'd left by her bedside. "Kala, sweetheart, you look like a raccoon," she told me with a chuckle, and I laughed.

"Should've worn the waterproof mascara," I joked back weakly. "I'm gonna miss you so much, Nana."

"You shouldn't," she said, almost stern. "I won't be gone. If you start to miss me, my little girl, just look into a mirror. Or into your mother's eyes. Or go to your aunt's house and have her make you up a batch of my lasagna. I'll always be near you, dear. I'll always watch over you."

I started crying again then, but it didn't last as long. When I was done, I kissed Nana and told her I loved her, then went out and sent Jason in. Everything Nana had said was still sloshing around inside my head, so I sat down by myself to think about it.

It had taken two more days, during which most of the family stayed at the hospital the entire time. The staff was understanding, and since we were quiet and didn't harass the nurses, they let us stay overnight. Nana's heart was starting to fail her. The doctors had been surprised she lasted so long; they never said so to us, but we saw the expressions on their faces when they looked at her vital signs and test results. She was running on determination alone at the end – pure Lane stubbornness, Mom whispered.

Everyone had been in and out of the room that day. The place was crowded with flowers and cards and photographs. Tobie and Maggie had come by with a bottle of Nana's favorite bourbon when they got the news, mostly to comfort Mom – and anyone who thinks Mom and Tobie hate each other would be very surprised by the way they hugged for such a long time. Professional rivalry aside, they're always there for each other. Of course, the nurses threw a fit when they saw the bourbon, but Nana dryly informed them that it wasn't going to have time to do too much harm, and they shut up.

Uncle Jimmy had been in yesterday, shyly bearing an enlarged copy of Nana's wedding photograph. She and General Sam looked so young and so very much in love that even Mom sniffled a bit. Lucy's girls had brought some things from home – a softer pillow, Nana's hairbrush, little things that meant so much. Tangible reminders of how much we all loved her surrounded Nana, and she smiled every time her glance took in the room.

It happened early in the evening. Nana had been dozing in the bed, and most of the family was out at dinner. Mom stayed in the room, asleep in the chair by Nana's bed, finally letting exhaustion claim her. She was still holding Nana's hand, though. Dad was in the reclining chair on the opposite side, trying to stay awake. He'd been up for over fifty hours with only thin snatches of rest, trying to manage the newspaper, the world, and the family heartbreak.

Jason and I were sitting on the heating register, me leaning on his shoulder. We were pretty worn down too, but I didn't need to see his face to know he was as awake as I was. We were watching Nana, watching her chest rise and fall, listening to her heartbeat. It was slow and irregular now, not the steady rhythm it had always been. Sometimes there would be a pause between beats, and then it would suddenly speed up like a lagging jogger sprinting to catch up. My nerves were frayed by every one of those little hesitations, until I was almost numb with dread. So when it finally happened, we all almost missed it.

Nana woke up, her hazel eyes sweeping the room with a loving gaze. She smiled at me, and I smiled back, thinking from her peaceful expression that she was about to doze off again. But instead, she squeezed Mom's hand slightly. Her strength was so far gone that none of us saw the faint movement. Mom woke up, though, and looked at her mother. "Love you, baby girl," Nana whispered, so softly.

"Love you too, Momma," Mom replied. At that, Nana smiled and closed her eyes with a sigh.

For a moment, none of us realized what had just happened. That soft, contented sigh was Nana's last, however. When she didn't breathe in, machines started to beep, and Mom started calling for Nana in tones of rising distress.

The next few minutes were a whirl of panic, grief, and confusion. Doctors and nurses crowded into the room, but there was nothing they could do except confirm the obvious. Mom wailed, keening so hard that she frightened the doctors. Dad held her, rocking her gently while she sobbed, and I remember thinking it was only his strength that kept her from falling to pieces from the force of sorrow within her.

Jason and I had never seen Mom come unglued like that, plus we'd both just seen our Nana die. I turned and buried my head in his shoulder, and he put his arms around me, both of us holding on to the one thing we knew we'd never lose…

In the present, Jason's arm around my shoulders tightened again, and I hugged him back, leaving painful memories behind for the moment. My brother – nerd that he is, hopelessly old-fashioned, absolutely content to bend his head beneath the yoke of Jor-El's plans for him – in spite of all those things, I love him. With that more comforting thought in mind, I snuggled close and drifted back to sleep.

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	3. Jason: The Luckiest Loser

**Welcome to the second prologue of _Heirs to the House of El_. This one is from Jason's perspective, and should provoke fewer sniffles. Still, we hope we're touching your hearts with these first-person introductions to the teenaged twins. The third-person narrative begins with _Chapter One: How Far We've Come_, and will be posted two weeks from today.**

**Many thanks go to our beta team and our loyal readers. We write for you, fans and friends.**

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_**Jason Lane Kent: The Luckiest Loser**_

_**

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****Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long, not goodnight.**_

Can you hear me?  
Are you near me?  
Can we pretend to leave and then  
We'll meet again  
When both our cars collide?

~ My Chemical Romance, _**Helena**_

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I woke up huddled on the very edge of my bed, in imminent danger of falling off. Normally I don't get up until the alarm's been going off for several minutes, but the feeling of gravity tugging at me where I leaned off the edge had managed to do what my alarm clock couldn't. Yawning, I rolled over to look at the reason I'd very nearly been shoved out of my own bed.

Kala sprawled there, sound asleep, her robe spread around her like a cape and her long black hair flung across both pillows. She'd always been like that; my sister might fall asleep curled into a little ball, but while unconscious she stretched out like one of those 'grow your own dinosaur' toys that expand to six hundred percent of their original size when you put them in water. In the process, I had politely shuffled aside in my sleep to make room for her, giving up most of my bed. I didn't mind her hogging the bed and the covers, and not just because I was used to it after almost sixteen years. I could vaguely remember her voice in the dark last night, soothing me out of one of those terrible nightmares.

Those dreams… We never talked about them to Mom and Dad, not even to each other. But I knew we were both reliving the same awful moment. For Kala, she was probably dreaming about Luthor tossing her off the side of that island. She'd had a fear of drowning that took years to overcome, and even now she was cautious. I remember her grim expression the first time she waded into the pool over at Richard and Lana's apartment, how she'd had to force herself to let go of the railing. No one pushed her to do it, either, not even our therapist. My sister wouldn't let anything control her, not even crippling fear, so she made herself get over it with sheer stubbornness. I've never told her how much I admire her for that. She probably knows.

I'm not afraid of drowning or falling or anything like that. No, I dream about Dad flying me down to rescue her. And in my nightmares, her hand slips through mine. I try to hold on as hard as I can, letting go of Dad's neck to grab with my other hand, but she still slides away. I can't hold her, and I have to watch her fall, have to see the look of shock and betrayal in her eyes. I try to scream for her, but no sound comes out of my mouth, and Dad flies upward, dazed by the kryptonite, not even knowing that Kala has slipped from our grasp.

Her worst nightmare is dying. Mine is seeing her die, being helpless to save her. Analyze _that_, Dr. Marrin.

I propped myself up on one elbow and watched her sleep. I'm not blind or stupid; I know my sister's pretty, even beautiful. She got Mom's striking coloration with this classic look from one of our grandmothers, Ella or Lara, and she turns heads everywhere we go. She knows it, too, the vain little brat. Kala can bat her eyelashes at most guys and they'll do whatever she asks, but it doesn't work on me. Thing is, I'm her brother. Pretty doesn't count with me. I know her way better than that.

After all, I remember when we were little, and she used to wrap a red towel around her shoulders and jump on the furniture, pretending to be Dad. I remember opening her bedroom closet one time and finding her with a scarf wrapped around her head, singing an old Madonna song into her hairbrush. I also remember the mercifully brief period around eleven years old when she got her growth spurt and everything else, including acne. It seemed like she was growing up overnight and leaving me behind, and I was pretty anxious for a year or so until I started getting taller, too. She teased me when my voice broke just as much as I'd teased her when she got all spotty.

We've been through a lot, Kala and me. Bickering and harassing each other most of the time, yet always sticking together against outsiders. We might be yelling insults at the tops of our lungs, but let one poor fool try to agree with one of us, and we'll both turn on him. We protect each other, too. She's taken on boys twice her size and whipped them for saying stuff about me, and though I try not to get into fights – I'm way too strong to even roughhouse with anyone but Dad or Kala – I won't let anyone hurt her. She's my sister, my twin.

You know, Dad used to have this whole 'last survivor of a dying race' complex – thanks, Jor-El – where he always felt so alone. He and I have talked about it some, and I understand how much the family means to him because he was so lonely for so long. But I'm not a last son – I was never alone. Not even in the womb. From the moment of our conception (in the Fortress, while some jerks from Krypton were trying to take over, and this was _not_ information I absolutely needed, thanks Mom and Dad), neither Kala nor I have ever really been alone. I can't remember ever feeling lonely, not even once.

Even when we were separated – in different classes or whatever – we still weren't quite alone. It's hard to explain without sounding corny, but I always know Kala's there. She might not be in the same room, but she's in my heart. That's totally cheese toast, but it's as close as I can get to what I mean. Sometimes I know when she's mad or upset even though she's clear across the school, and sometimes she picks up the same kinds of feelings from me. Psychic mumbo-jumbo, Uncle Perry would call it, but not even he could explain why Kala started crying the time I tripped coming out of the elevator and skinned both knees on the sill – three floors below where Kala was sitting in Perry's office. Dad's a little weirded out by stuff like that, but Mom just brushes it off as being the normal way of things. Both dads find it freaky, actually, but Richard's better at hiding it. I guess once he wrapped his mind around the fact that the kids he'd raised were super-powered, everything else was easier to take. And as for Lana, she tends to shrug off weird stuff pretty easily. As the only sane member of this family, I guess she's had to take a lot of things in stride.

Other kids get jealous of our family, you know. Nobody else we know has two mothers and two fathers, all of whom get along with each other and all of whom love us. Not to mention all of our aunts and uncles, relatives by blood or newsprint, and our horde of cousins. Poor Dad, going from a life of just himself and Grandma, to having the Lanes, Troupes, and Whites all welcoming him as one of the family. Then there's Uncle Perry and Aunt Loueen, Uncle Jimmy, and the Unrelated Aunts, Cat, Tobie, and Maggie. They're all family even though none of them are blood relatives, and our holiday get-togethers are huge events. Must've been some serious culture shock for Dad, but he's adapted well. Everyone adores him, even those who don't know the secret.

The secret – oh yeah, that's the other thing. There's a family within the family, a very small and select group of people who know that Dad is Superman. Me and Kala, Mom and Dad, Richard and Lana, Grandma, and Nana…

I caught myself sniffling a little, and brushed the tears aside. I still miss her, but I never let myself really break down and cry. That night in the hospital, Mom was hysterical, and Dad had to go to her. He had to be strong for her, comfort her, while she wept like I'd never heard before. Kala was just as heartbroken, so I was strong for her. I held her and let her cry for both of us. But it still gets to me sometimes.

I hated to lose Nana. It felt so personal, like there was something I could've done to save her. I know there really wasn't anything I could do; Dad's talked to me enough about how we're not miracle workers. Some things just can't be helped. Still, it's not fair. And Nana dying opened my eyes to the fact that other people I know and love are going to die, too. Someday Grandma and Grandpa Ben will leave us – she just broke her hip last year, and Dad went nuts worrying over her. What really scares me is the thought of _Mom_ dying. I know the grief would drive Dad crazy if she died before him. They love each other so much it's like staring into the sun – blindingly obvious.

When I went into Nana's room alone that last time, she just looked at me for a long moment. It felt so strange being there, with all those machines humming and beeping in the background like something out of a bad science fiction novel. And in the middle of it all Nana, with that cancer gnawing away at her the whole time, taking another bite of her life with every breath, every heartbeat, every word.

Once she spoke, though, I forgot all of that. "Jason, love," she whispered, and I knelt down to rest my head on her shoulder. She kissed my forehead, and the hand she raised to pat my arm was cool. After a moment, she murmured, "No one pays attention to the good boy, do they? You do well in school, you're brilliant at math and science, you play a difficult instrument well, and no one ever has to remind you to practice or to do your homework. You listen to your parents, and you don't cause a lot of trouble – oh, I know about your pranks, Jason Lane Kent, even if your father is convinced by that innocent smile."

I blushed then, feeling foolish. It was true that I'd often gotten away with misbehaving when we were little. Dad would take one look at my big, pleading eyes and decide that Bagel knocked over the vase, or that Mom must've eaten the last cookie in the jar. Whenever Kala did something naughty, she pranced around with this triumphant look on her face until our parents _knew_ she'd been up to something. But I'd always kept quiet, and I thought only Mom realized I wasn't quite the perfect little angel everyone thought I was. Apparently Mom got her observational skills directly from Nana.

"Silly boy," she chuckled dryly. "I know you better than you think, and I love you. You aren't some cardboard cutout of a perfect child. Stop trying so hard to be what you think your father is, and just be yourself."

"What do you mean, Nana?" I asked softly.

"Clark is far from perfect himself," Nana informed me. "Remember, he stole your mother's memories when he thought their relationship was a mistake. He turned his back on his mission and fled back to Krypton because he couldn't face her anymore, leaving her here alone and pregnant with you and Kala. He's made other mistakes in his life, mostly small ones, and never anything on that scale again, but he _has_ made mistakes." Lowering her voice to a whisper only I could hear, she added, "He may be Superman, but he's not a god. He's just a man – a good man, gifted with amazing powers, but still a man, and flawed as all men are. That's all anyone should ask of you, Jason. That you grow up to be a good man. And you're already most of the way there, sweetheart. Stop worrying so much, stop pushing yourself, and grow at your own pace. You will be everything you need to be, everything you want to be, when you need to."

Those were her last words to me. She was getting tired again, and from then on everything was very quiet in the room, Nana saving her strength for breath. I went out of the room and wandered the hospital halls until I found a door leading to a patio outside. The sun was shining down on me, and I could feel its golden light filling me up. Nana's voice echoed in my head … but I couldn't quite take her advice. I _am_ Superman's son. I _am_ the Heir to the House of El, and the heir to its legacy, to my father's mission. I can't afford to relax, to just be a good guy. I've got to be a hero, and I've got to be as close to perfect as I can be.

After all, if I screw up, the consequences could be a lot more severe than any other teenager. I have super-strength, heat-vision, and x-ray vision, all nearly as strong as Dad's powers. I've also got some super-speed, though Dad and Kala can outrace me, and my hearing's not as good as theirs either. Still, the powers I have are more than enough to cause serious damage to people and property if I'm not super-careful.

I shrugged myself out of that line of thought with the reminder that Kala's the freaky morbid twin, not me. And since she was still snoozing sprawled across eighty percent of my bed, that gave me a chance to get up before her and have the bathroom all to myself. A rare treat, considering that she's disgustingly perky most mornings. I eased out of bed and padded barefoot down the hall.

Sharing a bathroom with my sister isn't as much of a hardship as it could be. I mean, my cousin Sam has _three_ younger sisters, and when the family goes out to dinner they _all_ want to primp in front of the mirror. He's stuck brushing his hair in the reflection from his ROTC plaque. On the other hand, Kala's Goth, which as far as I can tell means she owns twice as much makeup as a normal girl, most of it either really dark or some kind of iridescent. I've watched her do her makeup, and applying lipstick alone is a four-step process. I'm so glad to be a guy – all I have to do is wash my face, brush my teeth, comb my hair back with a little water to tame that crazy curl in the front, and splash on some cologne. I don't even have to shave yet, and I'm not eager to start sprouting facial hair like some guys I know. Most girls I know prefer to kiss a clean-shaven guy. Elise did, anyway…

Thinking of her brought me to a halt, and my reflection stared back at me sadly. "Pathetic," I muttered to myself, shrugging off the thought. I'd really believed Elise was The One, but I guess I was trying too hard to have what Mom and Dad have. Kala told me I was too committed, but I was so crazy over Elise that I didn't listen to anyone. I wanted to marry her, live my life with her – when I pictured my future, family photos on the mantle, the only woman I could see beside me was Elise.

Well, that went down in flames. I made the mistake of _telling _Elise about the whole future-family-photos thing, and she got kind of flaky on me. Canceled a couple dates, then said we should break up for the summer since we weren't going to see each other. She went on vacation to New Zealand with her family over the summer and started seeing some guy. That ticked me off. She didn't even _tell_ me, I had to find out by talking to mutual friends. Even though she's back in town for school and not seeing the New Zealander guy anymore, we aren't speaking. And I'm seeing someone new, too.

Giselle's not The One. She's not the answer to my dreams; she's not Mrs. Right. If I'm totally honest with myself, she started out as revenge on Elise, a way to prove that Elise really _didn't_ rip my heart out and stomp on it. But now that we've been dating, I really like her. She's gorgeous, and all the guys are jealous of me when she's holding my hand while we walk down the hall. Better yet, she's affectionate and cuddly and always saying nice stuff about me. Giselle's also got a wicked sense of humor, and she's a lot smarter than Kala gives her credit for, too.

Kala, of course, hates her. The way she acts, you'd think Kala had planned and paid for my wedding to Elise, and I backed out of it to run off with the local streetwalker. Elise was the only one of my girlfriends that Kala ever got along with, and Giselle's the one she hates the most. My nutty sister's done everything short of pitch Giselle off the balcony to express her disapproval. But you know what? It's my life. If I want to have a little fun with Giselle, that's my business, not Kala's. She's proven time and time again that she'll do whatever she wants with her boyfriends.

Sometimes I really worry about Kala. She can't seem to stay with the same guy for more than a month. Part of the problem is that she's beautiful and she knows it. Even with the freaky Goth makeup and wardrobe, they're practically lining up to ask her out. That's no good for her – one day her head will swell so much it'll pop right off, and we'll have another Giant Floating Head in the family. Sometimes I can bring her back to earth by calling her Jor-El Junior, but more often than not these days she just glares at me and sticks her nose in the air. It's like she bought the whole 'legacy of a dying race' thing and considers herself the Last Princess of Krypton or some bull like that.

Yeah, the House of El is old and famous, but so what? I'm interested in the practical part of the legacy, not in the nobility of continuing Krypton's vastly superior culture, blah blah blah. I'm my father's son, and I just want to help him in his duty. Not because some brilliant scientist sent him here to uplift a primitive, savage people, but because Earth is my home. The whole of humankind is my people. Sure, people do some dumb things that never would've happened on Krypton, but we're talking about an entire race with their heads so far up in the clouds that they never realized their planet was about to freakin' _explode_. Jor-El really doesn't have room to talk about humans.

Not that the legacy doesn't give me hives, too. I mean, every kid has some stress in their teenage years, trying to figure out who they are and what they want to do with their lives. It's worse if one of your parents is famous, because then you can't just settle for being a decent wage-earning guy; you have to really _be someone_, to prove that your famous parent isn't a fluke, that their genes and their philosophy can raise a child as awesome as they are. And if your mom is two-time Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist Lois Lane, it's enough pressure that Dr. Marrin has talked to me about taking something for the stress. He doesn't even know about Dad – now _that's_ pressure. I have to live up to _his_ example, and those are some really big boots to fill.

So I guess it's normal for me to be feeling all freaked out and wondering if I'm actually good enough to be the next Heir to the House of El (there should really be some kind of trumpet fanfare every time Jor-El says that). Hey, I'm doing better than a lot of guys my age – I know where I'm going in life, I just don't know if I can actually _get _there. A lot of people haven't got that much figured out yet.

The only person I know who totally had it together is Sam. He knew he was going into the Army since he was like five. It's weird – the way Mom talks about Grandpa Sam, he seems like he wouldn't exactly be happy with the Troupe kids. Like maybe it would bother him that Uncle Ron is black. Which, incidentally, makes Kala laugh 'til she cries, because if interracial grandkids would bother him, interspecies ones would totally wreck his world.

But anyway. Grandpa Sam might not have been too happy with his namesake, but Sam doesn't know that. He totally idolizes his grandfather and wants to be an Army general just like him. Mom and Aunt Lucy weren't really happy with that, but Sam is dedicated – he's madly in love with America and democracy, and defending them is his calling. Some of Nana's Army contacts sat down with him when he was in high school, and talked to him about going to college first and joining the ROTC so he could come in at a higher level. That's what he did, and he loves it. I really believe there's going to be a General Troupe one day. Maybe by then I'll be able to tell him about how I'm planning to serve my country, too.

Or maybe not. Dad has always emphasized the need for secrecy. Not even Grandpa Ben or Kristin know, and they're always around people who do. I understand that, but Lana and Richard know, and nothing bad ever came of that. You'd almost expect Richard to say something about it. He's got that kind of sense of humor where I can imagine him saying, "Yeah, after Lois broke up with me, the only man good enough for her was _Superman_." On second thought, he probably _has_ said that, just not in public. Still, it would be nice to have someone my own age to confide in, you know? Someone besides Kala. Preferably a guy – there are things guys want to talk about that girls don't understand, stuff you wouldn't want to talk to your dads about, and it sucks to have to watch every conversation to make sure I don't accidentally let the secret slip.

I do have friends, but the guys in chess club don't really know me. Neither do the guys in my videography class. We can talk about the stuff that interests us, but I don't have anybody I can have really deep conversations with. I always have to hold back just a little, and I hate that. It really reminds me that I'm not exactly like other kids. As if accidentally using my x-ray vision wasn't reminder enough. I can watch those medical shows on TV and complain about how it doesn't really look like that. People are usually a lot globbier on the inside. It's never as neat as Hollywood wants you to think.

There are a few things that can help me forget how different I am. Music is one of them. I still play the piano, and I've started helping Mrs. Thomas with some of her younger students. Kala and I go to Lynn Stalmaster School of the Arts – she's in vocal, I'm in instrumental. It's a really strong academic school; only Spangler College Prep has better test scores, and we would probably stand out too much there. Plus they're a little too stodgy. At an arts school, everybody's weird, so even a couple of half-alien kids aren't going to attract much notice.

I take some of the film courses too. I really like movies, which is probably Richard's fault. He bought me a handheld DVR one Christmas, and I've been making short films with it. My favorite so far is _Godzilla Versus the Giant Vampire Women_. Yeah, so it's totally my iguana dropped on top of Kala when she fell asleep in full makeup. And it has a very anti-climactic ending. She woke up, saw the lizard, and started scratching his head and talking baby talk to him. Seriously, who does she think she's kidding? That's no way to treat a cinematic monster. If she really hated him like she says she does, she would've given me something decent to film.

Okay, so I mostly filmed my family and my pets, although Dad confiscated my very first masterpiece _Don't Pester Mom Before Her Coffee_. The beginning's slow – my voice asking Mom to look into the camera. Repeatedly. Answered only by groans, until Kala hears me and comes in. Then you have the stereo effect of both of us chirping "Mommy, lookit the camera. Mommy, lookit the _camera_. _Mommy_, lookit the camera, _please_." She finally shoves the covers back and sits up, her hair all wild and her eyes mostly closed, and sees the camera. Mom really looks like a hibernating bear rudely awakened. Then she realizes what's going on, and yells for Dad to "come get this damn camera before I kill your psycho children." And Kala and I start giggling, because we think Mom's joking.

Looking back, I wonder how many times we almost died pulling stunts like that. I'm old enough now to realize that when Mom reared back and gave us that crazy look with the whites of her eyes showing, only her maternal instinct saved our lives. Anybody else who tried the kinds of nonsense we subjected her to would've gotten beaten to a pulp. And most of the time, Kala and I thought it was _funny_. She'd say stuff like, "Clark, please get the chirping hordes out from under me for a while before I _lose my freakin' mind_ and jump off the goddamn balcony," and Kala and I would laugh, "Mommy's silly!"

Poor Mom, she never really wanted kids. Oh, she loves us – that was never in doubt, not even for a second. But sometimes it shows that she _really_ wasn't prepared for us. Especially now that Kala and I are both taller than her. It's like she's constantly surprised by us; the first time I hugged her and accidentally picked her up, we were both pretty startled. And the fact that we're growing up, just by itself, sometimes boggles Mom's mind.

I think I'm the only one she's talked to about it. Once when I was showing little Michelle how to play 'Chopsticks', I caught Mom looking at me with this absolutely heartbroken expression. I asked her about it later, and she told me it seemed like just yesterday I was picking out simple melodies like that, stretching to reach all the piano keys. I guess time flies when you're raising kids. Mom told me no parent is ever really ready for their child to grow up – Aunt Lucy cried _so much_ at Sam's high school graduation, it was ridiculous – but it was worse for Mom, because she hadn't planned to have children. Everything was a surprise, and she was always constantly amazed by every little thing we did. Just about the time she got used to being the mother of twin infants, we turned into toddlers. By the time she adapted to toddlers, we were school age. And now that she'd gotten it all squared away, accustomed to having Dad and Richard and Lana in her life and to taking us kids to school, we turned around and became teenagers on her. Then _everything_ seemed to change even faster.

She was sitting on the couch, and I was leaning up against her shoulder. Mom was staring off into space, so far gone into her own mind that I'm not sure she even realized I was there. "Living with Kal-El isn't easy," she murmured. "But living with two teenagers, whom you _thought_ you knew every single thought that crossed their minds, and all of a sudden it seems like they're completely different people. Like you don't even know them anymore. Bad enough they're growing every time you turn your back on them, and your _daughter_ can reach stuff on shelves you need a stepladder for. Suddenly they're saying and doing things you never imagined, and you realize that they've become their own people – you don't have as much influence over them as you used to, and you hope you did a damn good job when they were little, because they're off and running into their future and nothing you can do will call them home…"

I kept silent, not sure what to say. There were tears in Mom's eyes, and the sight of them filled me with dread and wonder. Dread, that anything could frighten my incredibly gutsy mom. Wonder, that she loved us so fiercely. Still in that distant tone, she whispered, "And it doesn't help that Kal-El's never home, if it's not someone in the city it's the damn JLA calling him in for something stupid they should be able to handle by _themselves_. That's what the League is _for_, making sure everybody has backup and nobody has to work 24/7 saving the rest of us from ourselves. But half the time if they don't call him he goes anyway because he's just too freakin' noble for his own good. We're lucky that _alone_ hasn't blown his cover. And when he _is_ home, sometimes it's no good even then, because I know I'm not getting any younger and he's surrounded by heroines in spandex half the damn day…"

"Mom, you're not _old_," I told her earnestly. To be honest, I was afraid she'd really forgotten who she was talking to and was about to tell me something I didn't want to hear. Kala and I already had soundproofed rooms and expensive earplugs; none of our parents had bought into the idea that romance dies when you hit thirty-five. But I did catch the drift of her fears, and tried to soothe her. "Besides, Dad only has eyes for you. It's really kinda gross how he's still mooning over you after being married so long. You two are worse than some of the kids at school."

At first my voice startled her, but then she smiled at me. It was still a bittersweet smile, though. "When he's here," Mom murmured, and then kissed my forehead. "My sweet boy, comforting his poor old vain mother."

"You're not old!" I protested, scowling at her. She arched an eyebrow at me, and I crossed my arms in my best Mad Dog Lane impression. Mom's eyes narrowed in caricature of herself, and I responded by squinting and pouting at her. We both cracked up, Mom laughing 'til tears ran down her face, and she kissed my cheek again.

Those recollections got me through my morning routine, and I opened the bathroom door, already thinking about what I'd wear to school today.

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	4. Act I: Teenagers: How Far We've Come

**Welcome to this week's installment. This is where we launch directly into the meat of the story itself. Welcome to the Family Lane-Kent (or Family El, if you're a Jor-El fan) yet again. Trust me, it'll be more than proven before the end that, no matter what name you call them by, adventure does truly run in the family. ;)**

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Jason yawned as he opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway, still blinking blearily. It was far too early for him to be functioning at peak performance, which was probably why what happened next took him completely by surprise.

A hand seemed to shoot out of nowhere and ruffle his hair. "Morning, Dopey," Kala said cheerily, leaning up against the wall as Jason flinched away, trying to smooth his hair.

"Knock it off." He glared cross-eyed at the one stubborn curl that had fallen down onto his forehead before frowning at her. "Stop messing with my hair, Kal! Isn't it like a Goth law that you can't be up and perky at this hour?"

"Goths have no laws, only guidelines, and the true measure of coolness is your ability to break them without losing your essential Goth-ness," his sister replied, darting her hand out faster than his eye could follow and mussing his hair again. "You, on the other hand, dear brother, shall suffer the curse of the super-curl today, since you beat me to the bathroom first by some nefarious means."

"Nefarious means?" Jason said archly. "No, I just woke up first because my butt was hanging off the bed. I almost fell on the floor, thanks to you."

She snorted and slid past him into the bathroom like a queen to her throne. "Sometimes I worry about you, Jase. Every boy in school would just _love_ to wake up next to me, and all you do is complain." On that note, she shut the door in his face and locked it.

"Yeah, I'm your _brother_," he shot back, thumping the door irritably. "You've been hogging my space since the _womb_. Trust me, Kal, the thrill's long since worn off."

Kala laughed merrily, and Jason headed back into his room. Gazeera was awake; Kala had probably stirred him up before she left the room, and Jason opened the cage to soothe his pet. The iguana, once a cute, big-eyed baby lizard, was now six feet long, with a broad head and heavy jowls. His legs and tail were strong, his claws long and curved, and his jaws powerful enough to severely demolish any rampaging vegetables in the vicinity. His species was quite long-lived, much to Lois' chagrin, and with excellent care he might see another ten years. "Hey, big guy," Jason murmured, stroking Gazeera's spiny back. "How's my monster today? Wanna go out on the balcony and get some sun before I have to go to school?"

The lizard seemed sluggish, so Jason left him in the cage, taking his water bowl and food dish when he left the room. His first task every day, before even having his own breakfast, was to provide for his pet. Mom and Dad insisted on both kids learning responsibility. Jason filled the dish with fresh veggies from the fridge and added a couple of fruit slices, then washed and refilled the water bowl. By the time he got back to his room, the timers had turned Gazeera's cage lights on, and he was basking on his highest perch, eyes closed. Jason left him his food and went back to the kitchen to wash his hands again and see what was for breakfast.

Dad had come back from his morning rounds and coffee was brewing. "Good morning, son," he said when Jason re-entered the kitchen. "Waffles sound good?"

"Sounds great," Jason replied, pouring himself a glass of juice and sliding onto a chair at the table. "Anything interesting today?"

"The usual nonsense," Clark replied, dropping two waffles into the toaster and getting the maple syrup from the fridge. "Although I stopped by the harbor just for a lark, and busted one of the container ships coming in with an unscheduled shipment. Forty refugees seeking political asylum. The way they were living on that ship … it's illegal to treat a _dog_ like that in this city." He shook his head. Clark rarely expressed political views, especially on such topics. To be technical, he was an illegal immigrant himself, although Jason doubted any government official would have the nerve to try kicking _Superman_ out of the country.

As if the mention of the word 'dog' had summoned her, Bagel came running, whining and yipping like the puppy she no longer was. She hit Jason's legs at a dead run and swarmed most of the way up into his lap, licking his face excitedly, her white-tipped tail beating a staccato rhythm against the table. "Hello, Bagel," Jason laughed, grabbing her head so he could kiss her nose without getting licked in the mouth. "And hello, Bagel's breath – _whew_! Dad, have you been brushing her teeth?"

"It's your mom's week to do it," Clark replied. "Which means she's been getting those dental bones and celery every day."

Jason chuckled, patting the little dog's side as she sprawled contently across his lap. "You know, Kala and I won't get you two any more pets unless you can take proper care of the one you have," he admonished teasingly.

"Aw, but I always wanted a _pony_," he heard his mother growl, coming up behind him and lightly whapping him in the head with the newspaper. "Don't be a smartass, young man. Or, at least, not where your Mom can hear you." At his embarrassed expression, she smirked and padded barefoot past him to the coffeemaker, wearing a robe and carrying a now-empty coffee mug.

"Nickel for the cursing jar," Clark reminded her mildly as she passed him.

"Bite me, I haven't had my second cup of coffee yet," was her blasé reply. "It doesn't count at this hour. Even if it _did_, I prepaid this week."

Jason snickered at her quietly. Mom would never quite fit in with the minivan-driving PTA crowd, but he liked her that way. No one else's mom had ever cussed out someone's dad for hitting her Audi and scaring her kids in the elementary school parking lot, leaving the poor man in tears. No one else's mom had a Pulitzer Prize on the mantle and another one she'd returned years ago. But then, no one else's mom ever got to fly with Superman any time she wanted, either. Lois couldn't really help being the coolest mom on earth.

Just as Clark set the plate of waffles in front of Jason, he heard a clatter of heels in the hall and Kala dashed into the room. "Hi Dad, hi Mom," she said, swiping one of Jason's waffles and rubbing Bagel's head.

Lois opened her eyes a little more, then narrowed them. "Kala Josephine, you know better. You can march yourself right back to your room and put on a different shirt," she said sternly. The blouse in question was black velvet, with a high mandarin collar but almost no sleeves. It also hugged Kala's figure tighter than her mother wanted to see. And this was not a new argument.

Kala's face had gone utterly blank at those words; she knew better than to look disgusted or defiant, as either one would provoke an argument. She simply stood up and turned around, her back very straight, and walked out of the room. Jason stared at the dog, not wanting to look up at his mother or his sister. He knew that Kala would have rolled her eyes extravagantly the moment she was out of sight.

Watching Kala's back, Lois couldn't help the way her mouth thinned in annoyance. Once she heard the door close, she closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "I swear to God, she's deliberately trying to make me crazy. Everyone in this family knows it," Lois muttered unhappily, sipping her coffee.

Awkward silence ruled in the kitchen until Clark put another waffle on Jason's plate to make up for the one Kala had stolen. "Jason, are you two going to start handing out invitations at school today?"

"Yeah," Jason said. "And after school. We decided not to mail the ones for everybody in town. Besides, it's always fun to go pester people at work."

That brought something of a smile to Lois' lips, her voice colored with amusement. "That's my boy. Give Raines hell for me since I can't do it in person."

Jason chuckled. Aunt Tobie was now the Editor in Chief of the _Daily Star_, traditional rival of his parents' newspaper, and EIC Raines never missed an opportunity to remind Lois that she outranked _Assistant_ Editor Lane-Kent. Lois, in turn, never missed an opportunity to remind Tobie that she hated administration and didn't want the Chief's chair, anyway.

In the wake of their merriment, Kala returned to the room, casting an almost palpable wave of frigid air ahead of her. Her back was perfectly straight, chin up, and Jason recognized the charm-school stride that Ella had once taught her. She'd gone around balancing a book on her head for weeks to achieve it. The shirt she'd chosen to replace the offending blouse was a long-sleeved faux-suede men's button-up. Kala could wear it for a nightshirt, it hung so low, and it covered everything including her hands unless she rolled the sleeves up.

Lois took one look and couldn't resist a snort of derision; as usual, Kala had gone overboard. Clark and Jason both glanced at her and then at Kala. The girl had seated herself primly, without meeting anyone's gaze, her expression still carefully blank. "Oh, give it up, Kala. The martyred ice princess act doesn't impress me," Lois stated sharply, as Clark set a plate of waffles in front of Kala.

Still studiously not looking at her, Kala cut her waffle, "Yes, Mother." Her voice was quiet and flat, deliberately measured, and Clark and Jason both winced inwardly. Any hint of scorn in her tone would've provoked a fight with her mother, but paradoxically, the utter lack of any tone whatsoever tended to have the same effect. Lois knew, after all, that the only reason Kala spoke like that was to suppress her sarcasm.

For a long moment, the silent room vibrated with tension, Lois glaring at Kala and the girl completely ignoring her. Finally, Lois just sighed in apparent disgust and stalked out to go get dressed, taking her coffee mug with her. Clark watched her go sadly, and put the waffles he'd made for her onto his own plate.

Jason hated the silence, hated the stiff, distant way Kala was still carrying herself. There was only one sure way to thaw her out. Giving her a small encouraging smile, he put his hand over hers. "Thanks for this morning," he said softly.

Those frosty hazel eyes met his after a moment. "For what? Messing up your hair?" Kala asked in a cautious tone, arching an eyebrow at him.

"You know what," Jason replied, squeezing her hand gently. It normally didn't take more than that…

Kala actually smiled then, and it was like the sun breaking through stormclouds. "You're welcome," she said, and devilish humor gleamed in her hazel eyes now, warming them, as she squeezed his hand back. "Although you know I don't do it for your sake, Jason. I do it for Gazeera. He doesn't deserve to be disturbed in the wee hours of the morning."

"Yeah, wouldn't want him to miss his beauty sleep," Jason replied easily. "He might wake up looking like your weasel."

The expression on his twin's face was indignant. "Captain Bonnie is a gorgeous ferret!"

"She's a rodent with pretensions. And an identity crisis. At least Captain Jack knew what he was."

Kala couldn't help but agree on that one. "Jason, it's not her fault everyone told us she was a boy." The ferret purchased to replace Captain Jack was supposed to be a black male like him, but the first vet visit had corrected that misapprehension. Kala named her new pet after a famous cross-dressing female pirate to highlight the hilarity. "And I'll have you know that she's a mustelid, not a rodent. Learn your taxonomy, science geek."

"Little, furry, and it squeaks. Rodent."

"Carnivorous, long-bodied, with a short, furry tail. Domesticated form of the European polecat, _Mustela putorius furo_. In other words, _ferret_."

Bagel, who had been blissfully lying across Jason's lap getting her tummy rubbed, chose that moment to lift her head and sniff Kala's arm. Her tail began to wag faster and faster. Fast enough that Clark had to ask, "Kala, is that Richard's shirt?"

Looking instantly guilty, his daughter gave a little laugh as she sipped her juice. "Busted by the hound," Kala sighed, putting the glass down and rubbing Bagel's head again. "I bet she smells her cousin on it. Yeah, it's his. He said I could borrow it _this_ time, though."

"He probably gave up after all the times you've stolen it out of his closet," Clark admonished her gently with a shake of his head. "You always come back from Richard and Lana's with twice as many clothes as you had before."

The black-haired girl gave a shrug. "She's a designer, Daddy," Kala said with a charming smile. "She _wants_ me to model stuff. If _I_ like it, she knows it'll sell."

"Modeling stuff does _not_ equal raiding Lana's closet, Kala. Or Dad's," Jason said, rolling his eyes just before shoving another forkful of waffle in his mouth. "You never see me over there stealing clothes."

"Oh, but Lana has this green skirt that would look so fetching with your typical plaid," Kala teased him, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. "You could tell people it was a kilt."

The unamused glare he gave her was pure Lane. "We're not Scottish, Kal."

"Some of those historical Kryptonian outfits have more than a little kiltishness about them," she pointed out, polishing off the last of her waffles. She took another long drink of juice to wash it down before adding, "You could carry it off, I think. You've got the knees for it."

"Kal, you're weird," Jason said affectionately.

"Jase, you're weirder," she replied.

With normality apparently restored, Clark leaned on the breakfast bar and looked at them both. "So you're delivering party invitations after school," he said. "How are you traveling, and when should I expect you at home?"

"Subway," Jason said. "We split up the list last night, so maybe two hours, three tops."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Kala added.

"So we'll see you by six, or I expect a phone call from each of you telling me where you are, how many invitations you have left, and when you'll be home," Clark said. Kala gave an exasperated groan at that, but he ignored it; if the twins felt he was overprotective, Clark didn't mind, just so long as they kept in touch. "Both of you have your phones? And they're fully charged?"

At that, Kala and Jason grinned at each other and replied in unison. "Yes, Dad."

Clark couldn't help his chuckle. Moments of solidarity between the twins always had that effect. "Good. Remember to turn them back on after school lets out in case we need to get hold of you. And be careful on the subway."

"Yes, sir, we will," Jason said. He knew that Clark was warning him of more than the usual subway dangers. Any mugger who attempted to snatch Kala's purse was in imminent danger of blowing the family's cover if she backhanded him across the train.

"Good kids," Clark said with a smile. "Now, if you'd like, your mother and I can hand out the invites to everyone at the office for you. Save you a little time."

Another groan from the peanut gallery as Kala pouted. "Aww, but I _like_ coming to the newsroom," she wheedled. "We were going to do those last, so we could hang around."

"That's fine, but you won't be able to linger," Clark told her. "The investors are coming in tomorrow morning, and everyone's going to be rushing around in a panic trying to make the place look good today. Why they think a working newsroom should be neat and tidy escapes me…"

"Because none of them have ever worked at a newspaper?" Jason offered. "C'mon. We all know the sloppier the desk, the more brilliant the reporter."

"And we all know that your Uncle Perry was talking about your mother when he said that," Clark pointed out. "It doesn't necessarily apply to everyone. _My_ desk is only a little messy, after all."

Lois came back out of her room, dressed for work with briefcase in hand, pausing in the kitchen to fill a travel mug. And with her reappearance, Kala finished her juice without saying another word. Jason and Clark shared a brief look, full of exasperation at the two women. Why was it so necessary for them to bicker like this?

Topping off her coffee, the elder of the two women cruised out of the kitchen and made her way toward the door and the coat rack. "All right, everybody, load up and move out," Lois called, jingling her keys in warning. "Mom has a meeting with her department first thing, so let's move."

"Don't forget your jackets, kids," Clark added from right behind her as he put his on, and both twins groaned. Their half-Kryptonian metabolism meant that they didn't feel the fifty-degree weather as much as most people, and they tended to forget to wear warm clothes.

Finally ready, they all trooped down to the building's garage, leaving Bagel sniffing forlornly at the door. The ride to school was fairly pleasant since Kala had warmed up enough that she stopped giving everyone the silent treatment. Due to their parents' work schedule, Kala and Jason arrived earlier than most students, so they had plenty of time to go by their lockers and socialize before class began. They were out of the car with only brief goodbyes, hurrying to see their friends.

Clark sighed as he watched them go, and heard Lois echo him unconsciously. She drove off looking pensive, and he gently took her hand. "Still can't believe how fast they grow up," he murmured.

"Oh, please, don't be clichéd." Her tone was studiedly blasé, but her fingers tightened around his. "Growing up is what kids do. They can't be little forever. We'd be pissed if they never got old enough to tie their own shoes. Or go places by themselves. It's a relief to not have to chase monsters out from under their bed at three in the morning anymore, I'll tell you that. "

He knew her better than that. Even if no tension showed on her face, he knew her stomach had to be clenching at that thought. "It would be nice to keep them small and agreeable," Clark said gently. "Well, _mostly_ agreeable. And they ate a lot less when they were little – I swear you could feed six adults on Jason's consumption alone."

That was enough to bring on a snicker of amusement out of her. "Yeah, right," Lois chuckled. "Like _you_ eat like a bird. Guess we both know where they got their metabolisms, huh?"

"From _you_, of course," Clark countered. "Lois, no other woman your weight can eat an entire pizza by herself, with breadsticks and hot wings on the side, and still be hungry for dinner. Not unless she has tapeworms or something."

That earned him a roll of her eyes. "You're exaggerating," she said dryly, a smile playing around the corners of her lips. "I could manage the pizza and the wings, but not the breadsticks too. It'd still be at least four hours before I had dinner."

"And you still wouldn't gain an ounce." Clark said this appreciatively, moving his hand to her thigh and running his fingers over the smooth fabric of her skirt.

That was enough to finally break her melancholy mood. Lois smirked; he wouldn't distract her while she was driving. Not much, anyway. "Yeah, but I have huge feet," she said teasingly.

"You wear a size six," Clark protested, then realized she was just taunting him. Typical. "Very funny. If you weren't driving, Lois, I'd rumple your hair for that."

Grinning wickedly, Lois checked the surrounding traffic. They were out of the school zone, and Metropolis' infamous gridlock hadn't yet begun in earnest. "Is that so, Mr. Kent?" she purred wickedly, and floored the accelerator. "I guess I'd better not give you the opportunity."

Clark yelped; ten years still hadn't accustomed him to Lois' driving. In the excitement and anxiety of watching her pilot her Audi through the streets, he completely forgot what he'd been meaning to say about the confrontation that morning. While Clark didn't entirely approve of his daughter's fashion sense, he recognized her stubbornness as coming from Lois, little though Kala would admit it. That meant, essentially, that Kala would resent his disapproval. He might be able to convince her to stop wearing that particular blouse, but she would be hurt, and it could turn into one of those 'issues' Kala was so prone to having. The less he commented, the more likely she was to simply forget about it on her own.

Unless Clark felt _very_ strongly about something, he tended to let it slide with Kala, not wanting to provoke the kind of heart-wrenching defiance she showed her mother. It wasn't the best parenting technique in the world, and he knew it, but it kept what was left of the peace in the house. And in the grand scheme of things, what was one nearly-sleeveless blouse, anyway? There were far more important things to worry about, and so far, Kala had been obedient about curfew and other such rules.

He'd meant to try to gently discuss things with Lois. She tended to be very tough on Kala, very demanding, and though Clark didn't dare tell her, Lois was behaving much the same way her own father had, though without General Lane's intense and lifelong disappointment. Clark's leniency only made her more stringent, and they needed to strike some kind of a balance before Kala really got set into rebellion. He loathed seeing the two of them at each other's throats.

Perhaps it was best that they didn't get a chance to talk about it. Those kinds of discussions made Lois incredibly defensive, and she often turned accusatory. At least this way they got to have a reasonably pleasant morning. As Lois pulled into her reserved spot in the _Daily Planet_ garage, she asked quietly, "Am I still covering for you at lunch?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Hal and Wally both had scheduling conflicts this weekend, and Bruce can't do Friday. It's got to be today. Annoying for those of us with day jobs…"

Lois raised a skeptical eyebrow as they got out of the car. "So you're planning to fly out to the satellite, have the meeting, and make it back here in under an hour? While everyone is running around chasing their tails because the investors are coming?" There was no missing the disbelief she didn't even try to hide. And the look she gave him was starting to become more and more common of late. "That's cutting it pretty close, hero."

"I might have to get locked into a men's room somewhere," Clark said apologetically. Lois looked away to conceal her thin-lipped, unhappy expression as soon as he said that, but he knew her too well. "Lois, come on. We're getting a lot better about trimming the meeting times. Dinah's Chairwoman now, and she doesn't let anyone get too sidetracked…"

She had heard this particular excuse a little too often. Lois waved him off, sighing heavily. "_Fine_. Go. I'll cover for you. I always do. I'll keep the dogs off us as long as I can. Just remember, you _are_ the International Editor. You need to be fairly visible. You're third from the top of the paper, and your department expects you here the day before the investors arrive."

"I know. If I have to leave the meeting early, I will." Noting both the resigned tone in her voice and the way she was hiding her face behind her fall of hair, he added tenderly, "Lois, you know I'd rather be here with you."

"Yeah," she sighed again, still not looking at him as they made their way into the building. He didn't have to see her face to know his words hadn't had the desired effect, that her expression hadn't lightened. "Yeah, I know. Let's get inside before we're late."

…

Kala headed to her locker with one last friendly punch to her brother's shoulder. Both of them had arts classes in the same building, but while the instrumental department tended to practice in the afternoon, the vocal majors used the rooms in the morning. So Kala's first few classes rarely required books, and her locker was closer to her last class of the day so she could ditch her heavy math book on the way home.

This meant she was well out of Jason's sight when she stopped to unload her book bag. With a quick glance along the hall, Kala took off her jacket and unbuttoned the long-sleeved suede shirt to reveal her velvet blouse beneath. She was careful to fold the shirt and tuck it into her bag; if she forgot to put it back on before she headed home, Mom would surely catch on, and she'd be forced through a wardrobe inspection before leaving home everyday.

Of course, if that ever happened, she'd just start leaving clothes at her friends' houses and having them bring her favorite stuff to school. It would be extremely complicated and probably cause a huge fight if Mom found out, but Kala wasn't willing to admit defeat. If the blouse was permitted by the school dress code, she should be able to wear it, and not be forced to bow to Mom's taste in clothes.

Feeling triumphant, Kala strolled over to the theater building. The breeze nipped at her cheeks, and she settled into the shelter corner of the theater doors, waiting for her friends to arrive. Kala was taking an acting class this year, and she'd made friends with a lot of the theater majors. They didn't think she was weird or rebellious or scary. Then again, people who would randomly break into monologues from obscure plays were probably not the best baseline for 'normal'.

Better than the majority of the vocal majors. They seemed to come from the same mold: pretty but bland, with sweet, clear voices and spotless consciences. Most of them seemed to like only fluffy little pop songs with no real substance. Only a few others were like Kala, putting the full range of emotions into their singing. Kala referred to the conformists as the Sugar Candy Choir. When they practiced, she liked to insert herself into a group of them, disconcerting them with her black clothes and intense singing.

Chuckling at that thought, Kala didn't see her best friend until he sat down next to her. Sebastian Velez, called Sebast, draped his arm around Kala's shoulders, sharing the warmth of his black leather jacket with her. His tawny skin set off his naturally jet-black hair and dark eyes, and most of the girls at school had swooned over him in vain. "How's my platonic soul mate this morning?" he asked Kala.

"I'm fine," Kala replied, and leaned on his shoulder. Sebast was the one guy in her life who was perfectly safe, without any ulterior motives; she could be affectionate with him without worrying what he'd expect from her, or what he'd tell his buddies later. "So how's Evan?"

"Evan is now ex-Evan," Sebast tossed off dismissively. "I can't have anything to do with a guy who hates _Miss Saigon_. No theater taste whatsoever and the fool thinks musicals are trite." He shuddered melodramatically, and Kala gasped in mock-horror. "So he is out the door. Finished. _Over_. And so I'm on the prowl again. Let's not have a repeat of Valentine's Day, okay?"

Kala snickered; they had both sent Candy-Grams to the same guy last year. "I bought mine first," she insisted.

Sebast made a face at her, frowning. "My poem was better."

"Better than _Jason's_, maybe, but neither one of us got anything out of it, so hush. Besides, the guy wasn't worthy of either me or you." They both laughed for a moment, then Kala sighed. "Maybe if Jason _had_ written a better poem, Elise would still be coming over every weekend…"

"Nah, it wasn't the poetry," Sebast put in. "It was dropping the M-bomb. Seriously. No fifteen-year-old boy talks marriage unless he's seriously depraved. No matter how cute your brother is, he couldn't have saved that one."

"Yeah, I just wish he would've picked _anyone_ else for his rebound. _Anyone_. That little slut Giselle Davenport…" Kala growled under her breath. "She laughs at my dad behind his back. And she thinks Lana is hopelessly old-fashioned. She thinks Mom's a bitch, too."

"At least you two agree on something," Sebast teased gently, and Kala elbowed him.

"She's my mom, I'm allowed to say she's a bitch. Nobody else. And Giselle's a complete _idiot_ for the rest." Kala slid down the wall a little further, nestling in the crook of Sebast's shoulder. "I don't get what Jason sees in her."

"A cute butt, perky boobs, nice hair, and a pretty face," Sebast said, shrugging. "Trite, but true. All the guys are jealous of him."

"Sebast, she _has_ no butt. No butt, just a void where one would be if she wasn't a Fembot. Skinny little spawn." Kala made a face; her brother's girlfriend was currently the bane of her existence, the only person on earth more annoying than her mother. "Besides, Jason doesn't think like that. He cares about stuff like intelligence and sense of humor, thank God. We taught him right."

"Yeah, and look where looking for those qualities got him," Sebast said with a chuckle. "Elise broke up with him, so maybe he's going for something simpler. Just let it go, Kala. You can't stop him, and he won't stay with Giselle forever. When he catches on to how Giselle really feels about your parents, he'll drop her like a hot rock."

"I hope so," she muttered. "The sooner, the better. I've tried _everything_ to get rid of her, and she just keeps hanging around like a bad odor. None of his other girlfriends were this persistent."

Sebast was quick to point out one certain fact. "None, except Elise."

"Yeah, but the difference is that I _like_ her," was Kala's immediate reply. "Elise hung around because she figured out I didn't really hate her. Giselle does it to spite me. Nasty little…"

Kala lapsed into muttered profanity, and Sebast just sighed heavily. He let her go on for a moment before redirecting her. "Are you working tonight?"

"Nah," she said. "Joe gave me Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday off this week. You'll have to shop for your linens tomorrow if you want to use my employee discount." A thoughtful conversation with her father about the value of service had led to Kala taking a part-time job after school, working as a cashier in a nearby branch of Bed n' Bath. It was supposed to teach her about being a public servant, but so far she'd mainly learned that people were jerks, at least when they shopped.

"So are you free tonight?" Sebast asked. "This new place opened up. They serve energy drinks, fruit smoothies, and fifteen kinds of coffee all night long. Poetry slam on Wednesday nights."

"Wish I could," Kala said with a grin. "This afternoon, Jason and I are delivering invitations to the grand soiree this weekend. Speaking of which…" She reached into her book bag and brought out a silver-edged envelope.

"You know I'll be there," Sebast said as he opened the envelope. The invitation itself was black, lettered in silver, and the venue listed was the height of elegance. "The ballroom at the Centennial? _Whoa_. Kala, what…?"

"Uncle Perry said he wanted us to have a real grown-up birthday party," Kala responded, hazel eyes shining with excitement. "It's not exactly black tie, but dressy – you'll be fine, Sebast, you clotheshorse."

"Anybody else from school invited?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Only the best people," Kala announced with a haughty tone before dropping her voice back to normal, winking. "Don't worry, I invited enough boys for both of us. _And_ I have an invitation that'll surprise my brother."

"You didn't," Sebast said with mock-amazement, already chuckling. Only Kala would dare at this point.

Her grin told him her answer before she even spoke. "Oh, I did. Soon as she gets off the bus, I'm inviting Elise."

…

Jason headed toward his first class of the day, Algebra. He actually liked math first thing in the mornings; he was finally awake by this time of day, and with a good breakfast pleasantly filling him, he found his mind was at its clearest. All good things for math classes. Jason had been told that musicians were supposed to be naturals at math, or vice versa, but he sometimes felt intimidated by all the complicated formulas. He was _good_ at math, but he didn't always _enjoy_ it. Tackling it first also got the chore out of the way before the classes he did enjoy.

On the way there, he met Giselle, as he did most mornings. She was in several of his classes, including Algebra, and they often studied together before class. It was an interesting change to be the one tutoring someone else; Elise had often helped him…

Jason shoved that thought out of his head. Elise had her summer boyfriend and whoever she was seeing now, she could teach _him_. Them. Whatever. He had Giselle, and she was always delighted to see him. She hugged him tight, kissing his cheek, and he grinned broadly at her. "Hi," Giselle said breathlessly, dark eyes locked on his.

"Hey," Jason said, just holding her for a moment. Giselle was an exotic mixture, half Dutch, half Chinese. She had the delicate features and green eyes from her mother's side of the family, and the black hair and skin tone of her late father. It all added up to a girl no one could ignore, and she was _his_ girlfriend.

Giselle sighed happily, leaning against him, and Jason forgot the rest of the world. No, she wasn't Elise, she wasn't his ideal girlfriend, but she was a really nice girl, and everything stressful in his life disappeared when she was in his arms.

Someone nearby cleared his throat, and Jason looked up, startled. "PDA," one of the teachers said mildly as he passed by, and Jason blushed as he stepped back from Giselle. The rule prohibiting public displays of affection was less stringently enforced at Stalmaster than at most schools, artists needing to encourage and congratulate each other's work, but too much snuggling was still frowned on. Giselle giggled, and her bright-eyed smile got an indulgent one from the teacher before he moved on.

"Hey, Jason, did you finish the homework last night?" Giselle asked. She didn't wait for the answer; she already knew it. "I don't think I did it right. Can I check my answers?"

"Sure." Jason took her hand as they walked to class. "Before that, though, there's something I want to give you."

"Oh?" she asked, looking up at him with bright anticipation. Giselle knew the twins' birthday was Saturday, and she'd overheard some of the party plans. So she wasn't at all surprised when Jason stopped to pull an invitation out of his bag. The dark-haired girl only glanced at it before impulsively hugging him again. "Of _course_ I'll be there," she trilled in his ear. "And I might have an extra-special present for you…"

"You _are_ the present," Jason sighed, kissing her hair. Love welled up in him, and only the knowledge that teachers were prowling the halls broke the pair apart.

* * *


	5. It's Not Me, It's You

**We figured what the hell? For those of you that are currently reading, we decided to give everyone the treat of posting earlier. Better than a trick, huh? Enjoy all!**

* * *

_**Isn't life a game of touch and go  
Girls talk high,  
Boys talk low.  
It's not me, it's you.  
Voices ring and echo.  
Psycho show,  
Memories flow.  
Now sing low,  
It's not me, it's you.**_

~ Prozzak,_ **It's Not Me, It's You**_

* * *

Richard hunched forward over his desk, eyeing his computer monitor warily. His latest article, about test-flying a restored biplane, seemed to lack something. The _Aviation Journal_ wasn't a terribly demanding job, but he had his own standards, and this article wasn't quite meeting them. The technical details were there, the appreciation of the history was there, so what was missing? He frowned at the screen, pondering.

His phone rang, a welcome distraction. "Richard White, _Aviation Journal_, Copilot's Comm, how can I help you?"

"Hello, darling." As always, Lana's voice completely changed the tone of his day. Richard's frown disappeared, replaced by a blissful smile.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, leaning back in the chair. "What's up?" While he spoke, his gaze roamed the wall of his office, hung with family photos: him and Lana at Lois' wedding, baby Kristin's first steps while holding Lana's hands, the obligatory family photo of _everyone_ at the annual Independence Day picnic at the Troupe house, him and Clark in front of the seaplane Clark had just successfully flown for the first time. Eventually his eyes settled on the most beloved photograph of all, a shot of himself, Lana, the twins, and Kristin, taken at the vacation cabin in North Carolina. The three kids were playing in a drift of fallen leaves, and Richard had gotten into the act, tossing a double handful of leaves at Lana. She was caught laughing; all five of them were laughing, in fact. Lois had even been laughing when she took the picture. It was their first joint family vacation, the first time he'd known that the future for both couples and all three children was really going to work out as wonderfully as it seemed.

"Well, your darling daughter has decided that she simply _must_ speak to her big sister," Lana said, with a touch of exasperation in her voice. "No matter how much trouble Kala would get in for having her phone on at school. I eventually managed to get her to settle for talking to Daddy instead."

"Put her on the line, then," he said. "And Lana? I love you."

"I love you, too, Richard," Lana replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. It was nice to know that talking to him affected her as much as it did him, that the contentment was shared. "Here's the princess."

A brief clatter as the phone was transferred to eight-year-old hands. "Hi Daddy!" Kristin chirped. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Talking to you, silly girl," he said. "Before that I was working, no matter what your mom tells you." Kristin giggled happily, sounding very much like Kala at her age. And like Kala, she knew perfectly well that her father's cure for an attack of 'gigglitis' was the application of 'tickle therapy'. Fortunately for her, Richard was in his office and not presently able to apply his favorite cure. "What are _you_ doing, giggle-monster?"

"Botherin' Mommy," Kristin replied, with more chuckles. "She says I can't call Kala cuz Kala's at big-kid school an' she can't have her phone on."

"Mommy is exactly right, as usual," Richard told her.

"But Kala said I could call her _whenever_ I wanted!" Richard could easily picture his daughter's pout.

"Yeah, well, your big sister is so smart, she has so many thoughts running around in her brain, sometimes she loses track of things. Like the fact that her phone is supposed to be off while she's at school," Richard explained patiently, not for the first time. "If she forgot to turn it off, and you call her, her phone will ring and she'll be in trouble. You don't want Kala to get in trouble, do you?"

"Kala says 'lee me not inta temp'shun, I c'n find it m'self'," Kristin recited, as Lana snickered in the background. "She says it means she's really good at gettin' in trouble."

"At least she admits it," Richard sighed. "Look, angel-baby, wait 'til Kala leaves school for the day. Mommy will tell you when, and then you can call her, okay?"

"Oh-kay," Kristin sighed heavily, drawing the word out. "Are you comin' home early today, Daddy?"

"Probably," he replied. "I can't stay away from the two most beautiful redheads in the world, can I?" The light compliment hid past altercations. His bosses preferred that the employees spend a lot of time hanging out with them after work, for 'networking' purposes. Richard knew it for pure brown-nosing, and refused to participate in spite of the fact that not doing so virtually guaranteed he would never get a promotion. He had better things to do most evenings than spend time with his coworkers, and had told his bosses precisely that. They left him alone because his column was well-liked by their readers, and because he didn't _need_ this job. If they irritated him, he could just walk away. Richard worked there solely because he enjoyed working, not because he needed money – and he'd explained _that_ to his employers, too.

"'Kay," Kristin said. "Mommy wants to talk when I'm done. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Kristin." Richard made kissing noises into the phone, getting a giggle and loud smooch from Kristin in reply, and then Lana was back on the line.

"Thanks, love," she sighed.

"How's everything going?" he asked, hearing an exasperated note in her voice.

"Pretty much as usual," Lana replied. "Deadline panic over the winter line, a certain little princess enjoying her early-release day a bit too much, all the typical delights. I'm looking forward to calling it quits for the day, actually."

"Me too," Richard said, glancing at the clock. Barely two in the afternoon – he couldn't quite sneak out this early. "Tell you what. How about we meet at three-thirty and head over to the _Planet_ to pester Lois and Clark? The investors are going to be there tomorrow, and they're probably both going half-crazy trying to make the place presentable."

"So you want to stress them out even more?" Lana teased.

"Nah, I'm bringing you and the kid. Between the two of you, you can probably solve most of the world's problems, you with diplomacy, Kristin with sheer cuteness."

That won him another laugh, and Lana said, "I'll pick up something to nibble on – if we arrive bearing mid-afternoon snacks, we're less likely to get thrown out of the building."

"You're on," Richard told her. They said their goodbyes, and he looked at the most recent article again. He finally saw what was missing from it: the delight he'd felt while piloting that ninety-year-old plane. It had been a rare and special moment, one he would never forget. Little wonder that talking to his wife and daughter had made him think of joy.

…

Jason sat down to lunch, his head spinning. He'd spent the time before his first class helping Giselle, and she'd thanked him with a kiss that so disrupted his train of thought, he'd nearly flunked the pop quiz. Thankfully, the worst test grade would get dropped at the end of the semester, so he wouldn't have to worry too much, but his chagrin at missing so many questions had made him work all the harder in history and English. He was still obsessing over that kiss, so sweet and tender, and that terrifying test grade, while walking up the hall to lunch.

A couple of the seniors were rough-housing as they walked along, just good-natured shoving and laughter, but they weren't looking where they were going. One of them bumped into a girl roughly, and she stumbled right into Jason's path, dropping her books. He snapped out of his daze and caught her with one arm around her waist, just before she would've hit the ground. None of the other students noticed how fast he'd moved.

Only after he caught her did he get a look at her face. _Elise_.

They stared at each other, equally shocked, Elise looking mortified. Jason almost dropped her, wanting to leap back as if he'd touched something scalding, but couldn't let her fall. He helped her up and steadied her, feeling his cheeks blaze. For a moment there, they'd been so close, he could've almost kissed her.

Elise pulled away, straightening her blouse and looking at him warily. They hadn't really spoken since school began, studiously avoiding each other even though they were both in the same chemistry class. Jason noticed a hundred little things: she was wearing a new perfume, she'd changed the way she did her hair, and in the few seconds he'd held her, he noticed a few more curves than last year. Jason found himself wishing he had some pithy remark that would let her know he was just fine without her, but he was too tongue-tied to speak.

"Thanks," Elise said after a moment. "Not bad, for the vice president of the chess club." She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Jason stunned and hurt. When he sat down at a free lunch table moments later, not even the sliced jicama in his lunch bag appealed to him. With a sigh, he opened his math book. No sense in wasting time, and he _never_ wanted another test grade like that again.

…

Lois was having lunch at her desk, while simultaneously trying to clean off her workspace. So far, multitasking wasn't working out so well; her pristine copy of her latest story now had soy sauce spattered across both pages, and she'd accidentally used two pens instead of the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. Clark could've done this in half the time and without any of the trouble, but he was so busy with the JLA that she'd likely wind up cleaning off _his_ desk for him.

Thoroughly disgruntled, Lois decided to stop trying to organize things and just make her desk presentable. To that end, she grabbed an entire stack of paperwork – the miscellaneous pile, not urgent but not quite ready to be recycled yet – and dropped it into a cardboard box beside her desk. She'd label the box and hide it in the supply room later…

A small piece of paper floated off the bottom of the stack and landed by Lois' shoe. It was a postcard, and Lois recognized the beach photo on the front. Beautiful white sand, palm trees, and a sky so blue it reminded her of Clark's eyes. She sat down and picked up the postcard, smiling wistfully as she turned it over. There was her address in Lana's neat handwriting, and beside it two colors of unruly crayon scrawl. "We luv you Mommy" was written in magenta, and "We miss you TOO" in forest green. A neater note had been added to the bottom in Richard's script, "You HAVE to see this place, Lois!"

The reporter found herself sniffling back tears. She could remember with absolute clarity the twins' first trip to the Bahamas. Lana had bought a beach house there shortly after marrying Richard, and they'd gone to the island for a week in December of the next year, taking the kids. Lois had stood on the dock at her sister's house, smiling and waving as the seaplane took off, but the moment Jason and Kala disappeared from her sight she hadn't been able to control her anxiety. Clark had held her once she started sobbing, waving a concerned Lucy off, and whispered in her ear that they could fly by and check on them tonight if she wanted.

In the end, they hadn't. That hadn't been the problem; she trusted Richard and Lana to look after them. Lois, even then, simply couldn't bear to watch her babies flying away from her. It had been her personal nightmare ever since she'd learned who their father really was. And it was also inevitable. Every child must grow up and grow away from their parents, grow into their own identity. But in spite of knowing that in her mind, Lois had wept for her heart's realization of it.

And now, though they were still in the same house with her every day, the twins seemed to be growing up so fast they might as well be flying. Not so long ago they had been tiny, well-behaved, and fragile; now they were taller than she was, bold and sassy, and super-powered. Other moms had to feel the chagrin of looking _up_ at their sons and daughters, maybe had to listen to the occasional backtalk, but Lois was the only one in the world who had to cope with a son who could pick up her car, and a daughter who could outrun it.

Her office door opened, and Lois slid the postcard under one of the photos on her desk for safekeeping. She blinked the haze of memory out of her eyes and turned toward the door with an exasperated expression. "_Yes?_" she snapped.

Laurel, Lois' secretary, was unfazed by the look and the tone. She'd been hired three years ago, enough time to grow accustomed to her boss' temperament. Perry tended to tell ambitious cub reporters that his job was so difficult, he needed an assistant, and his assistant needed a secretary – which made Lois and Laurel roll their eyes in unison. "That department meeting got moved up," Laurel said in a voice of utter calm. "Mr. White told me it's set for fifteen minutes from now. One of the investors got here early, and they're keeping him out of the office by letting him sit in on the meeting."

Lois swore pungently, already grabbing her cell phone to send an urgent text to Clark. _I __**told**__ him he was going to be late,_ she thought angrily as she punched the keys. _And guess what? Imagine that, ladies and gents, I was __**right**_. "_Great_," she growled aloud, the look of her face incendiary. "Laurel, will you grab my notes and meet me in the conference room? Oh, and I need the expense report for City. And the damn stock quote for the day. And…"

Thankfully, Laurel was practically psychic, as always. "I've got it," the younger woman reassured her. "I'll make you look organized like I always do, if _you_ can make your husband appear. Looks like he got sucked into a black hole during lunch. _Again_."

Lois bit her lip against another round of swearing.

…

Kala was staring at her algebra notes, not seeing them, just waiting for the third-lunch bell to ring. And she knew just what was ruining her concentration. It seemed like she was in a permanent state of annoyance with Elise; the girl had flatly refused to attend the birthday party. She had known it wouldn't be easy and she had tried her most persuasive wheedling, but Elise had just continued to stride past her with a flatly-repeated _no_.

Of course, it wasn't over that easily, not when you were dealing with Kala Lane-Kent. The two girls shared English class, and Kala boldly took the desk beside Elise despite the exasperated look on the other girl's face. "Okay, so this is the part where you tell me what your problem is," she said matter-of-factly.

"My problem is, I don't want to see your brother," Elise had said snappishly.

"So don't look at him," Kala had shot back. Why should she have to suffer for Jason's slip-up? "Look, the last time I checked, _we_ were friends, too. Don't you want to come to _my_ birthday party? Yeah, Jason's gonna be there, but so what? I'll disown him for the day if I have to."

Elise had finally turned in her seat to look directly at the black-haired girl. "Kala, stop it. You've never been a fan of Jason's girlfriends in the past."

"All except for you, 'cause you were actually worthy of the big dork," Kala interjected. "First one ever."

"And everybody knows you hate Giselle," Elise pushed on as if she hadn't spoken. "Kala, stop it! We both know you're just using me to get at her."

"No, that's what my brother's doing." Kala gave her a withering look that showed just how disappointed she was in her. "C'mon, Elise. Get a clue. Why else would a giant geek like him be going out with a hot girl who's got the brains of a Chia pet? He's trying to make you jealous," the black-haired girl retorted, frowning at her. "And wow, imagine that, it's working! Or at least, that's what he'll think if you don't come to the party."

"Jealous?" Elise had snorted imperiously. Turning back around, she opened her textbook as if she was fascinated with catenative verbs. "Kala, please. I have much better things to worry about than your brother. As far as I'm concerned, they deserve each other. If he wants someone whose measurements exceed her IQ, then let him have her."

"But that's not what he wants and we both know it." The impatience that Kala was feeling was becoming harder to hide. "Elise, he's always gone for intelligence first – I told you about how he had this monstrous crush on Jamie Sawyer during the most awkward phase of her life. She was like tall and skinny with coke-bottle glasses, but _brilliant_. That says a lot."

"Yeah, you told me," Elise muttered, gritting her teeth and resolutely not looking up. "Look, Kala, there's no point in talking about this. Get it through your head. Give up. I'm not going."

Kala had sighed melodramatically when all she really wanted to do was shake her. "Fine. Whatever. Your loss. It may have escaped you, but he's not the only person in this family who likes you. Not the only one who misses you, either. Mom sure isn't having stimulating discussions of world politics with the bimbo."

Even that last sally had failed, Elise studiously ignoring her, and Kala had finally admitted defeat. She rarely accepted failure, though, and it left her feeling discombobulated for the rest of the day.

On her way into lunch, she saw Jason sitting off by himself, staring into space. _Wonder what's up with lizard boy,_ she thought, but before she could go over to him her friends found her. Kala usually ate lunch with the popular-Goth clique, herself and Sebast being well-known members of it. Stalmaster had more Goth kids than most schools, largely because artistic temperaments tended to find the subculture interesting instead of scary. They were spread across every arts area, though Kala was the sole vocalist at the moment, and there were enough of them to create subgroups within the general heading of Goth. The witchy Goths were having lunch in the courtyard under a tree, the alienated Goths were off in corners by themselves, and Kala's group tended to take their lunch while sitting at the tables just outside the cafeteria.

A couple of freshmen who had unwisely sat down at their favorite table saw the solid mass of black-clad students approaching, and scurried away. Kala snickered; by the end of the year the new kids would know that the Goths weren't evil soul-sucking vampires … though they'd never find out one of them _was_ an alien. She dropped into a seat and opened her lunch bag. "Oooh, cherimoya," she said. "Anybody want half of a poisonous fruit?"

"I've got Pop-Tarts," Sebast said. "Raspberry, your favorite."

"Trade," Kala said, handing over a couple sections of fruit for a Pop-Tart. "Melissa, what've you got?"

"PB&J," the burgundy-haired girl sighed. "_Again_. I really need to send my mom shopping with your parents."

Kala hid her smirk; some of their household snacks were imported directly from South American rain forests, picked up by Dad on his flyovers. All three sets of Kryptonian taste buds in the Lane-Kent family yearned for flavors that just weren't available at the average grocery store. "Hey, I _earned_ this," she said aloud. "My brother and I were allergic to just about everything when we were little. Can't blame the 'rents for spoiling us a little now that we can actually have something besides macrobiotic shakes."

"So what're we doing this weekend?" Scott asked. His naturally dark hair was currently bleached blond, cut short, and spiked up with massive amounts of gel, a look that Kala found rather fetching.

"Well, if you all aren't too busy…" Kala began, grinning. Someone kicked her under the table, and they all laughed as she brought the party invitations out of her book bag. "But Sebast doesn't get one, because I don't want any competition," she teased.

"Yeah, right," he retorted. "I already have mine. And I'll definitely be there, if only to see this dress you can't stop talking about."

"What dress?" Melissa asked. She was a recent transfer to the school and still fairly new in the clique. Everyone else at the table groaned; they'd heard about it. Several times.

"Oh, just a little something for the party," Kala said airily. "Nothing special."

"Oh _please_," Sebast muttered. "She's getting an L. Lang original for her birthday. Custom made for her by Lana Lang herself."

"_Whoa_," Melissa said, eyes widening. "I really like her stuff … for a mainstream designer, she's got a lot of things I'd wear. How'd you get a custom-made dress?"

Kala smirked gleefully. "Well, maybe I'm just lucky."

"Or maybe it could be the fact that Lana Lang is her stepmother," Sebast supplied.

"No way!" Melissa said, eyes going wide.

"Way," Kala replied. "She's really cool in person. And she's not _technically_ my stepmother. She married the guy I grew up calling Dad, but my actual biological father came back into our lives and now he's married to my mom. So basically I have two dads and two moms, and she's one of the non-biological set."

"My head hurts," Melissa commented.

"Hey, don't get Kala started on her family," Scott drawled. "Half the people she calls relatives aren't actually related. And half of them are famous."

"I can't help it if I come from a well-known family," Kala protested. "Besides, not everyone is _famous_. They're just really cool, for the most part."

"Newspaper royalty," Sebast said to the confused Melissa. "Her mom's the assistant editor at the _Daily Planet_. Her dad's the International editor, and three of her uncles work there too – one's the Editor in Chief."

"I pretty much bleed ink," Kala added with a smirk.

…

Kal-El left his cell phone on silent in meetings; he could hear the faint buzz of electricity through the circuits when a call came in, so a ring tone wasn't necessary. And as was typical, a call came in at the worst possible time. He caught Dinah's eye and gave her a chagrined smile.

The Chairwoman sighed and waved at him to check his phone. Kal-El did so, making use of his super-speed, but they all saw his expression when it turned out to be a text message, not a call. "That has to be your wife," Bruce commented in a droll tone. "Not even a nuclear disaster puts _that_ look on your face."

Kal-El couldn't help his wince. "They moved up the department meeting. To _immediately_."

"She's thrilled," Bruce added, having met Lois on more than a few occasions. That provoked a chuckle from several of the JLA members who were acquainted with Kal-El's wife.

"We're done with the most important news," Dinah said. "You've got your identity to protect; go, and someone will take notes for you. Someone like you, Bruce?"

Bruce looked straight across at Wally. "Mind taking notes for the only guy here who can run a race with you?"

"Sure," he said. "Fly, Clark. We've got your back."

"Thank you," Kal-El said, cape swirling as he rose. He couldn't help giving Bruce a perfectly innocent smile as he added, "We should try doing this on Friday afternoons, when those of us who _aren't_ independently wealthy can leave work early."

"Well excuse me for being born rich," Bruce parried with a chuckle. "Maybe you should think about working nights. Or just getting out of a field full of people who are trying to guess your identity?"

"Only _one_ of them guessed it right," Kal-El retorted, turning to the door.

"So you married her," Bruce shot back.

"Which is why I'm busy nights," Kal-El said as he walked out, but Bruce didn't need to see the smirk on his face. He could hear it in the Kryptonian's voice, and he shrugged, admitting defeat while the rest of the JLA laughed.

Kal-El heard their amusement as he soared down toward Metropolis, knowing he only had a few moments to get there and change. Behind him, he heard someone mutter, "And _that's_ why I'm glad I'm single. No one to call me up out of a meeting. It's sad to see _Superman_ running to his wife's beck and call."

"Man, have you _seen_ his wife?" Wally said incredulously. "I'd answer her calls."

"It's not about Lois," Dinah pointed out sharply. "He has a _job_. If he's late often enough, his cover's blown. And then one of the _founders_ of the League would be discredited."

The same voice – Kal-El made a mental note to figure out which of the new members that was – asked, "Has anybody noticed the incongruity of _Superman_ having a _day job_? I mean, come on. Why is he down there on the street pretending to be something he's not?"

"Because he would rather be 'merely' human," Diana cut in, her tone warning. "Because he is well aware that his powers don't make him 'better' than the people he works with every day."

"Because he's a better man than you are," Bruce added. "And by the way, _he can still hear you_. Wherever he is."

Kal-El laughed to himself before tuning them out to concentrate on the _Daily Planet_ building. He picked out Lois' voice instantly, growling under her breath, "I swear, if he's late again, I'm gonna kill him. We're running out of freakin' excuses. Kal-El, wherever the hell you are, you _knew_ about the deadline and I sent you a text about the change. You'd better be here…"

Perry was at her side, scowling, with the rest of the department heads straggling along behind them. In the midst of the pack was the man Lois would've referred to as 'the walking wallet'; she tended to be a bit derisive of the investors, but this one was a decent guy. He startled as a sudden rush of air down the hallway mussed everyone's hair and sent a few papers flying. "Damn drafts," Perry muttered. "I've had the maintenance crew go over this building a hundred times, and we _still _get these crazy drafts in the place. The remodel should've taken care of it, and it did for a couple years, but now…"

Lois smirked. She was the only one unsurprised when they walked into the meeting room moments later and Clark was already there, his briefcase on the table. Perry came to a halt in the doorway, staring at him incredulously, and Clark just looked back innocently. "Mr. White?" he asked. "I got the right conference room, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but we were meeting in the bullpen and _then_ walking over here," Perry said gruffly. "Never mind; at least you're on time." With that he went to his seat, shaking his head slightly.

Walking past Clark without ever breaking her stride or looking him in the eyes, Lois just tightened her hold on her notes while she followed the Editor. As she passed him, she muttered under her breath, "Once again, we can thank me for your continued survival." Despite the pointed edge to her words, those eyes sparkled devilishly as she slid into her own seat.

As usual, she'd chosen a moment when he couldn't actually respond. Clark caught Lois' gaze as she sat down, letting his grin speak for him. _You'll get yours later,_ that look seemed to say, and Perry sighed heavily when he caught them eyeing each other. "Down to business, people. We have a meeting to run here," he said warningly, but Lois and Clark both caught the glint of amusement in his eyes when he glanced at them.

…

"Your homework for tonight will be to watch fifteen minutes of a movie – any movie – and write down each shot and camera action used," Mrs. Sharpless said. "Oh, and I shouldn't have to say this, but it has to be live-action, and it has to be G or PG-13 rated." The final class bell punctuated her words.

A few of the students groaned, but Jason grinned. Now _that_ was what homework should be like every day. He picked up his backpack, already thinking about which movie to watch. The Lane-Kent household had more books than DVDs, but there was enough of a selection for his purposes. Jason headed out to meet Kala for the ride to the _Daily Planet_, unconsciously hurrying in hopes of seeing Giselle.

"Hey!" Jason turned around and saw Nathan catching up with him. He waited for the shorter boy, a visual art major whom Jason had met in film class. "Didn't see you at lunch today," Nathan said as they walked down the hall to the stairs. "Were you and the hottie locked up in the photo lab or something?"

Jason couldn't help his unrestrained snort. "Not hardly," he replied with a grin. "I was in the cafeteria, studying."

Nathan sighed. "You didn't miss much." Jason usually ate lunch outside the music building, with a mixed group of instrumentalists and their friends from other arts areas. Nathan proceeded to fill him in on all the off-the-wall theories that had been floated around for Jason's absence. "Of course, Caleb said you probably got suspended for PDA."

"Caleb's a moron," Jason opined, smirking. "Nobody believed him."

"He's a pathological liar. But you _do_ have a tendency to be attached to Giselle's face all the time."

"Do not," Jason said. "And Caleb's just jealous because he doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Somebody told me he likes Kala." That said, Nathan automatically took a step away from Jason.

The dark-haired boy whirled, glaring. "You can tell him from me to get _that_ thought out of his head," Jason snapped. Nathan chuckled, and Jason shoved his shoulder. "You jerk. You're an only child. You don't have to worry about every guitar-playing stoner in this school trying to hit on your little sister."

"Little?" Nathan said incredulously. "Jason, Kala's _my_ height. And she's only like a minute younger than you."

"Whatever," the taller boy muttered. "Anyway, Caleb had better leave her alone. He's not good enough for her – and Kala will tell him that. I don't want to see him crying at the bus stop or anything."

Nathan gave an amused snort. "Yeah, you're _so_ overprotective."

"Shut up," Jason said, reaching into his book bag and pulling out an invitation. "You can come to the party if you promise not to give me any grief."

"I'll think about it," Nathan laughed when he took the invitation from him. "See you tomorrow at lunch?"

"Yeah. I've got to give the guys who aren't in band class their invitations too."

"Please tell me there's gonna be some girls at this party," Nathan muttered.

Jason gave him a long-suffering sigh. Rolling his eyes, Jason let him start reading before he replied. "You can bring a date. It's a grown-up party; Uncle Perry rented out the Centennial ballroom."

"Whoa!" Nathan's eyes got wide. "Okay, you can count me in. I'll be there just for that."

Laughing, they parted ways, Nathan going toward the buses, Jason heading for the front of the school. The dark-haired boy sighed as he merged with the flow of students struggling to get to their lockers, or to talk to each other in the middle of the hall. Jason preferred not to shoulder his way through, although when the crowds were at their worst he sometimes entertained the fantasy of simply jumping over all of them with super-strength. His leaps would break any Olympic record, but they wouldn't get him over the heads of a hundred chattering teenagers. Not to mention, that would pretty much destroy the family secret.

With that thought occupying his mind, Jason didn't even see Giselle until she sidled up and caught his hand. "Miss me, handsome?" she asked, swaying close enough to bump her hip against his leg.

Jason squeezed her hand gently, beaming at her. "Yeah, I missed you," he said. "How was your day?"

He only devoted half his attention to her answer, the rest to not bumping into anyone. She told him about her classes, her teachers, and one of her friends who was seeing some guy from the parochial school up the street, Jason nodding and making noncommittal sounds in all the right places. He knew, after going out with her for a couple of months, to let Gisele get all the day's gossip out before trying to talk about anything serious.

"…and thank you _so much_ for helping me with math," Giselle said, getting Jason's full attention again. "I think I passed the quiz, and I know I would've bombed it if you hadn't shown me how to do those equations." She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him, dark green eyes gleaming with delight, and Jason couldn't help grinning goofily at her. She was just so pretty that he couldn't help feeling silly every time she looked at him.

"You're welcome," he said after a moment. "I don't think I did so good … I was a little distracted when we went into class."

Giselle giggled, looking up at him with an odd combination of shyness and pride. A wave of protectiveness – and possessiveness – washed over Jason, making him stand a little taller as he beamed down at her.

Something struck his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and Jason turned around angrily only to see his twin glaring at him. "Hey, Dopey, pause your hormones and watch where you're walking. You almost stepped on a freshman."

As always, Jiminy Cricket in black lipstick managed to ruin a perfectly romantic moment. Closing his eyes for a moment, Jason gave a heavy sigh, his look to Giselle already apologetic. "Geez, Kala, I did not. You exaggerate everything."

"Do not," she responded with a smirk, but any other response was forgotten when those sharp eyes locked on Giselle. Just the sight of the girl was like a red flag, as always. Kala knew that part of her dislike of Giselle Davenport was due to the fact that she was Elise's polar opposite, but most of her annoyance with the other girl was an instinctive thing. And, as always, the need to drive her off overrode any propriety. "Giselle, what are you, a lost puppy? School's over! Go follow someone else home. We've got places to go, people to see, things to do … and you're none of the above. Especially not the last."

Giselle glared at her, a glimmer of hurt in those eyes, and Jason hugged her quickly. "I'm sorry, Giselle, you know how nutty my sister is," he murmured, before rounding on his sister. "Would you calm down?" he hissed in dismay. "Kal! Do you always _have_ to be rude?"

"To Pretty Princess Barbie? Yeah," she shot back without apology. The scornful look she gave the girl in question made it clear that she found her more than a little lacking. One hand on her hip, Kala gave a hard glance to her watch and then her dawdling brother. "Jason, it's after three now. We've got to cover half the town and go by the _Planet_ by six o'clock. We do not have time for you to stand around all moony-eyed and woogie-woogie with the placeholder." While he stared at her in open-mouthed shock and horror, Kala glared at the other girl again. "Seriously, Giselle. Beat it. I've got a heavy backpack and I'm not afraid to swing it."

At that, Giselle's pretty face crumpled with unhappiness, her displeasure all too clear. Having seen the reaction, Jason had half-turned away from her to swat Kala's shoulder, so she mouthed 'bitch' at Kala before turning smartly on her heel and stalking away. "Giselle, she can't help it if she's a heathen," Jason turned back to his girlfriend hurriedly to try to explain, before realizing she was already gone. "Giselle? Giselle!"

"Oh my God, whatever. Forget it, Dopey, we have more important things to do than cater to the Stalmaster Barrel of Whine." Muttering under her breath, Kala grabbed his elbow and started dragging him along. "How many times to I have to tell you that you're better off without her before you listen?"

The dark-haired boy turned then, favoring her with aggravated look while he threw his hands in the air. "Kal, why do you have to stick your nose in something that's none of your business? Just leave her alone!" Jason said in utter exasperation, yanking his arm away to glare down at her. Then his blue eyes widened in disbelief as he did a double-take. "You wore that shirt anyway?! Mom's gonna kill you!"

Kala gave her eyes a dismissive roll. Her brother always over-reacted to everything, especially if it involved their mother. All too often lately, Jason had been siding with Mom, even if his own sister was in the right. Attempting to push that uneasy frustration aside, she commented tartly, "Only if she _finds out_, mama's boy. What're you gonna do, _tell_?"

The reply was enough to startle Kala. "Yeah," Jason said calmly and seriously, making her whip her head around with wide eyes. "Yeah, I just might. Unless…"

His sister's look was wary. Jason rarely resorted to manipulation in situations like this. "Unless … what? What do you want, you cheeseball?"

"Leave Giselle alone," was the stern reply.

Those hazel eyes narrowed as Kala crossed her arms over her chest. That little princess was completely and totally unsuitable for her thick-headed twin, something she'd been telling him for months, but he had yet to listen to reason. Well, just because he was clueless didn't mean she was going to back down from her campaign. Besides, it was for his own good. "If that's what you want, go on and tell, then, you big sissy tattletale," Kala snorted. "Nothing's worth having to put up with unfiltered twit for the rest of forever. Especially since you're never gonna wake up and grow a brain where she's concerned."

An annoyed frown threatened, his brows furrowing at those words. Kala had been like this ever since he had refused to speak to Elise their first day back at school. She'd been twice as outraged when he had started seeing Giselle a few weeks after school began, none of which had been reason to find fault with his current girlfriend. After a tense moment, as always where his twin was concerned, it passed and Jason heaved a sigh. "I only want one thing. I want you to be nice for my girlfriend for _one day_, you little dork," Jason said finally, shoving her shoulder playfully. "I won't say a word to Mom about the shirt. All I'm asking is one day without your attitude. You don't have to like or approve, just don't comment. Can you handle that?"

There was a silent moment as Kala considered her brother's proposition, weighed the aggravation of blackmail against having to hear an extended lecture from Mom. "Tempting, but I still don't know if it's worth it, you _big_ dork."

There was a cure for Kala's nasty viciousness that only her twin brother knew. Without warning, Jason slung his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "Then do it because you looooooooooove me," he drawled, giving Kala his best big dopey smile.

Kala rolled her eyes, trying to resist Jason's innate good nature, but she was already grinning up at him. All she could do was give in and sigh. "Okay, _fine_. But only because I love you and you're my twin and we're supposed to have each other's backs for_ever_."

Jason squeezed her affectionately. "Love you, little sister."

The despised endearment simply made Kala wrinkle her nose. He never would let her live down that one-minute difference, would he? "Yeah, love you, too, lizard-breath," Kala replied in saccharine tones. "Now can we _please_ get going?"

"All right, all right," Jason backed off the 'cute', chuckling. He'd relent for now; there was no point in fighting over this anymore after he'd won that small concession from her. "I'd say 'race you to the subway,' but…"

At that, Kala gave him a superior grin as she linked her arm with his and they headed toward the metro entrance. "You just say that because you hate losing," was Kala's retort as they broke into laughter again.

* * *


	6. A Trip Down Memory 'Lane'

Here we are again, one week from vacation and a few days from posting our **12 Days of Clois** **_F_****_ic Exchange_** assignment. Yes, the Infamous Lane-Kent Birthday Party is coming up in two weeks (which we'll be working on in the mountains. You guys know how well we write on vacation, (i.e. Awesome. Most of _**IAL**_ was plotted in a cabin in the woods in February and _**Unfamiliar**_ was written on a long weekend for Anissa's birthday in July. ;) See?) so we plan to come home with all kinds of evil afoot.

We don't leave until next Saturday night, so no worries just yet. ;) Enjoy, all!

* * *

_**Baby face don't grow so fast  
Make a special wish that will always last  
Rub this magic lantern  
He will make your dreams come true for you...**_

~ Madonna, **_Dear Jessie_**

* * *

Jason took the subway further downtown, while Kala went uptown on the green line. She took a seat and dropped her bookbag in front of her, leaning back with a sigh and closing her eyes. The subway was _loud_, and Kala liked to practice her concentration on the daily ride. Singling out one sound from hundreds, or blocking them all to focus only on her own heartbeat, helped her control her often-annoying super-hearing. She wasn't too worried about being bothered during the ride; Kala carried herself with a certain confidence that the average purse thief found off-putting.

In spite of that, though, within a few stops she felt a ghostly touch at her elbow. Her awareness snapped back to the present, but she didn't open her eyes just yet. The gentle brush of fingertips became a caress, someone's hand running lightly down her bare arm, and then back up toward her shoulder. "If your name isn't Nicholas Powell, you're about to get your ass kicked," Kala stated aloud, eyes still closed.

"Just seeing if you were in there," a male voice replied, and Kala turned to look at Nick sitting beside her. He was a college student who often took the subway around the time Kala got out of school, and sometimes talked to her. A good-looking blond, Nick seemed to have appointed himself Kala's protector whenever Jason wasn't around. His wicked grin was for her alone at the moment. "I worry about you, meditating on the subway."

"I'm fine," Kala replied loftily. "But thank you for being so chivalrous."

"You're welcome," he replied, reaching out to brush Kala's hair back off her neck. She looked at him archly as he continued, "I like this blouse. Especially the black-on-black embroidery on the collar here."

Kala met his eyes bluntly before she scoffed, "No, you like an excuse to play with my hair." Nick's flirting amused her, and she'd never told him to quit, although she didn't exactly encourage him either. He was too old for her, too likely to be interested in only one thing, but if they both walked away from a conversation smiling, well then, where was the harm?

In reply, he ran his hand into the raven waves at the nape of her neck, gathering up her hair and tightening his grip on it ever so slightly. Kala looked at him steadily, her face betraying no emotion other than challenge and wariness, in spite of the shiver down her spine. After a moment, Nick let go, running his fingers through her hair once. "You have great hair," he commented with studied casualness. "It'd be your best feature, if not for those eyes."

"And _you_ have an endless store of flattery," the dark-haired girl replied, pretending to stifle a yawn. The train came to a halt, and a few people got out of their car. No one else got on, as rush hour hadn't yet begun.

"At least I'm not missing my stop." Nick gave a wolfish grin when the doors had shut.

_Oh, that just figures. **Boys**._ Kala couldn't resist a knowing smirk at him. "I'm not missing my stop, wise guy," she shot back wryly. "It has absolutely nothing to do with you, Mr. Powell. I'm riding all the way to University station today."

He hadn't seen that coming, as his astonishment was clear. "Oh really? And what's a little girl like you doing going to college?"

He was hardly getting on her good side with comments with that. "Hardly little." Kala made her tone positively world-weary, stretching in her seat and watching from narrowed eyes to see if she was succeeding in flustering him. "Well, I thought I'd get myself another college boy or two," she continued loftily. "Maybe start my own little harem and share it with Sebast. You're very much his type, you know."

"But he's not _my_ type," Nick said, smirking. "I prefer women."

The bait was too easy to resist. Her crooked grin nailed him to the spot. "Or jailbait who look older than they are."

"Sixteen's legal in this state," he told her calmly.

The Lane smirk was in full effect when she just as calmly informed him, "And if a good thing we both know I'm fifteen." Convinced that she had the upper hand – for the moment – she sighed and continued, "Anyway, I'm going to invite a family friend to our birthday party this weekend. Which, unfortunately, I can't invite _you_ to, because then I'd have to explain how I know you. And I don't think my mom would be very pleased to know I talk to strangers on the subway."

"I was only a stranger the first time we met," Nick corrected with that devilish grin, his demeanor not changing one iota. Then he gave a shrug. "But I see your point. Are you inviting your boyfriend?"

"I don't have one this week. But I'm inviting the next couple of contenders," she drawled out with a nonchalant shrug of her own. "I'll go out with whoever's the best dancer at the party, assuming he knows how to act at a party with grownups."

"Lucky guy," Nick murmured, giving her a fond smile. "I'm sorry I'll miss the party – especially since I'm a better dancer than most guys your age."

Kala looked at him askance for a moment before deciding to smile. "It's too bad you'll miss out."

Nick grinned at her, the affection of a moment ago melting into something more wicked. He leaned in closer to whisper, "You're the one who's missing out, little girl." The subway car came to a halt then, and he got up to leave, still with that insolent expression on his face.

Kala laughed merrily. "You're wasting your breath, Nick!" she called after him. "You're not offering anything I'm interested in." He only laughed back, and once he was gone Kala let her head drop back against the seat with a sigh of utterly mixed feelings.

Nick was presently the only guy Kala knew whom she couldn't control. Most of them, if she showed the slightest interest, wrapped themselves around her little finger with minimal effort on her part, slavishly eager to devote themselves to her. The less interest she showed, the more determinedly they pursued her. All of that was amusing if eventually exasperating, but Nick didn't seem to play by the same rules. Kala wasn't even sure if he was playing the same game, and she had the nagging feeling that she was no longer ahead in the score.

With an aggravated groan, she steadfastly put him out of her head and focused on remembering which dorm Jamie Sawyer was in.

…

At the offices of WGBS News, the receptionist recognized Jason and waved him through. He found his way to the studio where Cat Grant was currently shooting the afternoon news, and waited until they ended the segment before stepping forward and giving her a little wave.

Cat beamed. "It's my favorite boyfriend!" she called affectionately, making Jason blush in spite of the fact that she'd been calling him that since he was five. She ran up and hugged him, stepping back to beam. "I swear you get taller every time I see you," she said, eyeing him critically. "Are you sure you have any of your mother's genes?"

"Besides the one for sarcasm and the hair color?" Jason offered.

With a laugh, she led him away from the cameras. "Sweetheart, you're not mean enough to really be sarcastic. And that's your father, because your mom is the most viciously snarky woman alive. I say that lovingly, you know."

Jason shrugged. "You've been friends with her longer than I've been alive, Aunt Cat, so I guess you have a right to say it."

"Oh, ouch." Cat mock-winced at that, laughing. "Remind me of my age _and_ hit me with 'Aunt Cat' in the same sentence. Maybe you _are_ your mother's son after all, Jason."

"You're not old! Why does everyone keep saying that? None of you are old!" he protested, and Cat patted his shoulder.

"I know, I'm just messing with you, Jason. It's what honorary family does, remember? Anyway, I'm sure you had a reason to visit – besides spying on our technology for the ancient and backward print media."

The boy could help but blush and give an embarrassed shrug. Having family is various types of communications made for never-ending rivalry. "Mom says the _Planet_'s website is cooler than yours."

The blonde couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, she also says she kind of likes Perry White's coffee, so we know she's crazy." Seeing he was turning a flattering shade of red, she finally relented and asked, "What really brought you down here, sweetie?"

"I brought you something," Jason replied gratefully, and handed her the invitation. The camera guys were watching them with amusement, so Jason did his best excited-little-boy grin, the expression Lois had once likened to a shark on Prozac.

Recognizing that expression, Cat chuckled fondly and opened the invite, her eyebrows going up. "The Centennial? My, my, _someone_'s rich stepmom went all out."

That grin of Jason's returned to normal, although it was clear that he was pretty proud. "Nope. Uncle Perry said we should have a grown-up party, and he sort of hijacked the planning from Mom and Dad. Although I wouldn't be surprised if he turned around and asked Lana to plan it."

"Me neither," Cat sighed, smiling herself. "She said she'd plan my wedding too, if I ever settle down…" She paused for a moment, thoughtfully. "You know, the Centennial seems to host a lot of important stuff for your family. You guys are having your sixteenth there, Lois and Clark got married there, Richard and Lana made the gossip column kissing in the lobby…"

Reminded of the detail, Jason squinched his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose. "Difference is, this party will _not_ revolve around kissing."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're not bringing your girlfriend to this little soiree?" Cat poked him teasingly in the side with a mischievous grin.

The comment got its deserved effect when that blush returned. "Aunt Cat!" Jason yelped. "Of course I'm bringing Giselle. It's just, the whole party's not gonna be about kissing."

"Poor thing, all of us shouldn't have so much fun teasing you. You always did turn red as a beet when we did." Cat laughed kindly, hearing the plaintive note in his voice. Jason had always been the shyer twin when they were younger, hiding behind Lois every time they met someone new. He had grown bolder, partly due to Kala's childhood habit of grabbing his hand and dragging him out to meet people, but even now he tended to act put upon when teased too much – unlike his sister, who would sass back until she got upset and pouted. "Of course I'll be at the party," Cat said warmly. "Can I bring a date?"

"Sure," Jason said, straightening up from his slouch. "Just make sure he doesn't look better in a suit than I do."

Laughing again, Cat kissed his cheek. "Not many men who do, kiddo," she said affectionately. "In case nobody else has told you today, you've grown up to be a very handsome young man. And I am famous for my good taste in men." She winked, and Jason just grinned back instead of the long-suffering groan she expected to hear.

"Cat, on air in one minute," someone called, and Cat sighed apologetically.

Jason just smiled. "I'll see you at the party? Right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Cat replied, and then hurried back behind the desk before the commercial break ended. Jason would've liked to hang around and check out the cameras, but he would only be underfoot during an actual news broadcast. He headed out quietly, giving Cat one last wave.

…

The irritatingly-early investor had glanced into Lois' office, immediately seeing the one thing she hadn't gotten a chance to clean up – the litter of notes and coffee stains across her desk. "A clean desk is the sign of a sick mind, or so I've heard," he'd said with a wink, and Lois was surprised to hear herself chuckle. Maybe this guy, one of the young bucks who'd inherited stock from his father, was actually going to be fun. She caught herself smiling, and turned away in time to see Perry looking toward the doors.

Starting to smile, Perry coughed and assumed his usual gruff tone instead. "Dammit, boy, when you resign from a job, you generally quit hangin' around the place." He folded his arms and did his best to look disapproving, but Lois could see the gleam in his eyes.

"Aw, Uncle Perry, how could I resist the ambiance?" Richard called as he walked in, carrying a bag full of take-out containers. Beside him was Lana, who waved at Perry as she strolled toward Lois. Kristin detoured straight to Jimmy's desk, in search of some sugar-free candy, and Lana smiled as the red-headed photographer greeted her daughter with a hug.

"Ambiance, hell, you just miss a ­_real_ newsroom," Perry growled at his nephew. "That damn fancy magazine of yours lets you leave this early?"

"They're lucky to have me, and they know it," Richard retorted.

Meanwhile, Lana had greeted Lois with her usual hug and peck on the cheek. "Hello, darling," she said. "We brought something sinfully spicy for you, and normal food for everyone else. Can you take a late lunch?"

"I already took lunch," Lois replied, hugging her back with a bit of distraction, but unable to resist glancing at the takeout bag with interest anyway. A delicious smell was wafting through the room, making her mouth water.

"And I'll bet you spent your lunch break working or trying to spruce things up for the investors tomorrow," Lana countered, arching auburn brows. "May I remind you that _I_ hold stock in this newspaper too? As an investor, I demand that the Assistant Editor get her daily quota of scorching-hot snacks. And I further demand that you take twenty minutes and actually have a _break_, which you tend not to do."

Lois sighed extravagantly. "You hear that, Perry? I can't say no to her – she's a stockholder and the boss' niece-in-law."

"Go on, Lane," Perry said, favoring Lana with a warm smile. "For my sake, don't tick her off. You never know when our favorite millionairess may decide to buy the paper and fire me for not letting you have enough time off."

"I only threatened that _once_," Lana corrected, giving Perry a hug.

Richard had already wandered into his old office and set down the food, giving Clark the hybrid handshake-hug that was currently fashionable between men. He came back to open his arms and beam at Lois' back, posing for the moment she turned around. "Hello, gorgeous," he called out, giving a low whistle.

At the sound of that particular voice, Lois smirked before whipping around with dramatic disapproval. "Oh my God, I can't believe they still let _you_ in here. Now Lana, I completely understand. She's a shareholder and makes a good impression. But you? The male model?" Crossing her arms, she looked him critically up and down with one dark brow ticked up as she frowned at him. "I guess they have to. I mean, you're family to several employees and married to an investor. What _is_ the world coming to?"

"It's so cute when you try not to admit how much you love me," Richard replied, grinning at her. "Face it, you pine when I'm not around. Who else is such a perfect foil for your sarcastic profanity, hmm?" When that only got him a raised-eyebrow look, he added, "And my sexy jeans-modeling abs are pretty tempting, too."

"Oh, knock it off, flyboy. I only saw you three days ago," Lois muttered, but she couldn't really hide her grin when she hugged him anyway. Lana watched them as she walked over to Clark, both of them amused by Richard and Lois. Once upon a time, Lana had been very nervous whenever her husband was around his ex-fiancée, but after ten years she'd become much more accepting of their rather quirky friendship.

"You missed me anyway," Richard said confidently, adding an affectionate squeeze to the hug. "I'm irresistible."

Lois snorted with amusement. This was an old and well-loved argument, only few of the word choices changing each time. "Irresistible? Like a bug-zapper, maybe – you _know_ you'll regret it, but you keep flying back anyway. Not that I have a _choice_ in the matter; this bug-zapper follows _me_ around."

Smirking, he made as if to rumple her hair. "Are you trying to tell me that after all this time, you still find me _electrifying_? Or am I just a fatal attraction?"

The look of horror that Lois turned on Clark and Lana made them both break into laughter. That was pure awful, even coming from Richard. As the redhead leaned against Clark, snickering uncontrollably, Lois hissed to Richard with revolted disbelief, "And I used to _sleep_ with you?"

Richard didn't bat an eyelash, already expecting her reaction. "And you used to like it a _helluva_ lot," he shot back, swatting her rump.

That, the swat and not the comment, was enough for her to fight herself free and glare hell-fire flames at him. It was rare that he was this bold at the office; it was even more rare that she wasn't _actually_ physically attempting to harm him for it. "Yeah, that says a lot, doesn't it? Thank you, Richard, for pointing out just how crazy I am. Puns like that, you should come with a warning label and a muzzle."

"Don't give me an opening line like that if you don't like puns," he replied, giving her a mocking leer. It only took Lois a second to catch his meaning, her typical unintentional double entendre, and then she was muttering imprecations and trying to punch him in the ribs while Richard laughingly defended himself.

Clark had slid his arm around Lana, resting his chin on the top of her head as they both watched Lois and Richard making a spectacle of themselves. "It never gets old," Clark sighed, hugging her.

"The Lois and Richard show?" Lana asked, chuckling. "No, it doesn't. What's truly strange is that they both _enjoy_ it." Leaning back against him for emphasis, she added, "By the way, nice work yesterday."

"The headlines _were_ pretty good," he murmured, knowing she was talking about yesterday's rescue of twenty-five children from an overturned bus. Since it had happened in Mexico as part of a Spanish-class trip, he had both caused the Superman story and covered it in the International section of the paper.

Lois had snagged someone's stapler and was threatening Richard with it. That was the usual stage at which Clark and Lana intervened, but Perry stole their moment. "Cool it, kids," he barked from behind Lois, causing them both to turn around and look at him like a couple of startled school-children. Lois hid the stapler behind her back. "This is a _business_, not a playground. I hope you both realize that investor saw you smack her ass, Richard."

Clenching her jaw, Lois drove her elbow into Richard's ribs without even bothering to look around. "Richard, you _idiot_," she growled.

"Ow! Hey, you called me a bug-zapper…" Richard trailed off, seeing the 'how-old-_are_­-you' look on Perry's face.

"Come on, you two," Lana finally said, catching the back of her husband's jacket and tugging him toward Clark's office. "The food's getting cold. Kristin?"

The little girl never failed to come running when called, even if she had to stop on the way to hug Uncle Perry. As soon as she was close enough, she caught Lois' hand and reached up, demanding to be carried. And she was all too aware of the fact that the reporter was more than willing to do so. "C'mere, cuddlebug," Lois said warmly with a soft smile, swinging Kristin up into her arms and kissing her. Beaming at her, she asked as Kristin cuddled into her shoulder, "What've you been doing since you got out of school, kiddo?"

"Pesterin' Mommy an' waitin' to call Kala," Kristin replied honestly. Her blue eyes got very wide then, and she looked over her shoulder at Lana. "Mommy! Kala's outta school! You didn' tell me!"

Lana handed over her phone, shaking her head slightly. "Sweetheart, I was so busy getting together snacks for these ravenous reporters, I forgot. Here, press six and then press talk."

"I know," Kristin replied crossly, opening the phone. Lois just chuckled; the twins at that age had barely known what a cell phone was, much less how to work one, but Kristin spent so much time traveling at Lana's side that she'd actually been perplexed by the first corded phone she ever saw. As they headed in to Clark's office to eat, Kristin's happy chattering provided the background music to their meal.

…

Kala didn't look out of place on a college campus, and she knew it. She walked purposefully to Jamie's dorm, went inside with a group of girls, and headed straight up to Jamie's room. She knocked on the door and felt it open slightly, sticking her head into the room to call out, "Jamie? You in?"

"Hey, Kala," Jamie called. "Come on in. I'm almost done with this chapter anyway." The dark-haired teen trotted into the room, eyeing the posters on the wall critically. Somebody had liked the recent raunchy teen comedy, but it surely wasn't Jamie. Her taste ran more to dramatic films. At least the room wasn't as cramped as some dorms; Jamie only had to share with one other girl, whereas some rooms had up to four students.

Jamie got up from her desk, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. These were elegant rectangular lenses and very light frames, nothing like the Coke-bottle glasses she'd sported in years past. Time had been kind to her in other ways; the weedy, mousy-haired kid Kala had met so long ago had grown into a tall and willowy young woman. Even her hair had finally decided to lighten to something closer to Maggie's blonde, and she had also developed some of her mother's grace and poise. And funnily enough, Jason _still_ couldn't quite string together a sentence around her, which was why Kala had graciously decided to invite her.

She hugged Kala, stepping back to look at her warily. "All right, you have that _look_ in your eye," Jamie commented. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing." Kala's tone was positively sweet, handing over the invitation. "Well, nothing besides inviting you to the event of the century. I turn sixteen this Saturday, you know." After a pause, she added as an afterthought, "Oh yeah, Jason is too."

Jamie chuckled. "As if you forgot." Glancing at the invitation, she gave Kala a sly look before adding, "You two won't be little kids anymore."

Kala gave her the full treatment: long-suffering sigh, eye roll, and head dropped back as if her neck had suddenly broken. "_Jamie_!" she whined. "Stop acting like a _grownup_. You're supposed to be on _our_ side."

"Maybe you've forgotten, but I _am_ a grownup," Jamie said archly. When Kala just pouted at her, she laughed. "You know I'll be there, Kala. The Centennial – is this black-tie?"

Kala smiled as if she had been assured of her appearance all along. "Wear a knockout dress," the younger girl had smiled promptly. "Something that shows a little leg. Give Jason a heart attack for his birthday."

"It's so sweet that you think of your brother," Jamie drawled sarcastically, whapping the invitation against Kala's shoulder.

Kala snickered. "I do what I can. Anything to show my sisterly love."

"You unmerciful little brat. I'll think about it, okay?"

"Thanks," Kala chirped happily, hugging her. "Now, you know I'd love to stay and drive the college boys crazy, but I have to get a couple of other invites done. Including some _real_ grownups."

Jamie just shook her head. "Go on, then. I'll see you at the party."

Any other comments Kala might've made were interrupted by her cell phone ringing. "Lana? I wonder what's up?" Kala said under her breath, recognizing the ring tone instantly. "I've got to take this. See you, Jamie!" The blonde waved her understanding, and Kala flipped open her phone as she left the room. "KLK Enterprises, how may I help you?" she answered in her most adult voice.

"Kala?"

"Little Red!" The delighted smile that lit up Kala's face at the sound of Kristin's voice would've surprised many of the other kids in school, most of whom had never seen her so brilliantly happy. "How's the bestest little sister ever?"

"Great!" Kristin replied just as cheerfully. As she proceeded to tell Kala all about her day – including the fact that she was at the _Planet_ with Richard and Lana – the dark-haired teenager headed back to the subway station.

…

Jason knocked on the Thomas' door, already smiling. He'd known since he was little that his music teacher was awesome, but as he grew older, he learned how to truly appreciate her many gifts. Not only was she a talented musician and singer, but she had the patience and the passion for music to pass that learning along. Over the years, she'd become a good friend to his mother as well – not the sort of friend she went out drinking with, like her usual gang of troublemakers, but someone she could talk to about kids or husbands over a perfectly-brewed cup of coffee.

Her daughter, Ashlyn, answered the door. She'd grown into a pretty young blonde whose love of singing rivaled her mother's, and Jason had often felt privileged to accompany her on the piano. "Hi, Jason," she said, smiling brightly. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he replied. Jason and Ashlyn had gone out briefly at fourteen, but had discovered that they didn't actually like each other like that; they just enjoyed going to movies and plays together. Trying to call those evenings 'dates' had just made things awkward and silly, so they invited Kala and Sebast along and called it friends' night, or an un-date. Smiling at his good fortune in having friends like Ashlyn, who didn't think it was embarrassing to know all the words to all the Disney songs at the age of sixteen, Jason asked, "Are your mom and dad home?"

"Mom is, Dad's at work," she replied. "Why?"

"I have something for all three of you," Jason said, and unable to resist the question in her eyes, he added, "Invitations to my birthday party this weekend."

"Awesome!" Ashlyn had a smile that lit up not just the room, but the rest of the recipient's day. "C'mon, Mom's in the music room." She caught his hand and practically pulled him along.

Mrs. Thomas looked up in amusement at her daughter's sparkling eyes and Jason's friendly grin. "Hello, Jason," she said, rising from the piano to give him a hug.

"Hi, Mrs. Thomas," he replied. "I just dropped by to invite you and Mr. Thomas and Ashlyn to my birthday party." With that, he brought their invitations out of his backpack and handed them over.

"Can we go, Mom?" Ashlyn asked before even opening hers.

Mrs. Thomas looked the invitation over seriously, checking the time and location, before smiling broadly. "Yes, I think we can all make it."

"Great!" Jason said, giving her another spontaneous hug that made her laugh at his open affection. "It wouldn't be a real birthday party without you, you know. You were always there for me and Kala when we were little."

"You are such a sweet boy," she told him. "Your parents must be so proud."

Jason ducked the praise with a little laugh. "Nah, they just expect me to have some manners and class," he responded. "I wish I could stay, but…"

"More people to invite, hmm?" When he nodded, Mrs. Thomas patted his shoulder. "Go ahead, Jason. Ashlyn really ought to be doing her homework anyway."

The girl sighed good-naturedly and showed Jason out of the house with a roll of her eyes that was more token teenage gesture than genuine sarcasm. "See you at the party!" she called as the door closed.

…

Perry had warned that Richard and Lana could hang out _only_ if they stayed out of trouble. That was easy for Lana, currently in Lois' office helping her get her desk clean and organized – the box of miscellaneous junk hidden in the supply closet offended her Midwestern sensibilities, and she'd cajoled Lois into actually _cleaning_. Kristin sat on the couch in Lois' office, oblivious to both of them as she used Lois' pens and copier paper to draw a picture; her phone call to Kala had brightened her already happy afternoon. Richard leaned back in the chair, his feet up on his old desk, watching the three with an affectionate smile.

Absently, Richard picked up the baseball on Clark's desk. Jason had caught it at a Metropolis Monarchs game, and Clark kept the souvenir on a little stand. Richard tossed it into the air and caught it, still watching Lois' office. Lana opened a folder, looked shocked at the contents, and whapped Lois on the shoulder with it. Kristin glanced up, saw them looking incredulously at each other, and then ignored them in favor of her picture again.

Richard chuckled. "Those two never cease to amaze me," he opined, tossing the ball again and catching it. "They have next to nothing in common, except their taste in men, and you'd think _that_ would have them at each other's throats. But they're close. Sometimes I think Lana tells Lois stuff she doesn't tell me."

"If you think that's odd, think about you and I being friends," Clark replied, watching his souvenir being casually tossed around.

Richard just grinned. "Yeah, but I've always been a fan of yours." He didn't need to mention the S-shield decal on the wing of his seaplane; it had been there years before he actually met Clark.

Clark looked thoughtful before he spoke. "Even when I stole your fiancée and your kids?" The soft tone in his voice still held a bit of guilt after all these years.

Richard caught the baseball and turned to look at him with a long-suffering roll of his eyes. "This again? She was never mine, Clark. And the kids, well, I knew they weren't biologically mine from the start. You didn't _steal_ them, either, we're sharing. I happen to think Jason and Kala benefit from having both of us as role models."

"There's a part of Lois' heart that will always be yours, Richard," Clark reminded him. "She loves you. If you ever doubt it, realize that you smacked her on the bottom a little while ago and none of your bones are broken. _That's_ love."

Tossing the ball again, Richard chuckled as he looked across Perry's office at the two women again. "Yeah, and I think everybody knows I'll always love her, too. But it's not like it is with you – I swear, every time you and Lois look at each other, I hear faint instrumental music in the background."

That got a laugh from Clark. "Unfortunately, sometimes it's the Battle Hymn of the Republic. Trust me, Richard, life isn't perfect even for me."

Richard paused to consider this, biting his lip thoughtfully. While trying to decide if this was the place or time to be giving Superman relationship advice, he tossed the ball into the air once more. When he reached to catch it, however, it wasn't there. He fumbled for it, hoping he wasn't about to drop Clark's souvenir…

…and then realized Clark was holding the ball. And smiling. "Okay, that is not fair," Richard said.

…

_Behave as if you have every right to be there, and no one will think to challenge you. Skulk and you won't make it ten feet past the front door._ That sage wisdom, learned from Perry White and practiced by intrepid reporter Lois Lane, was frequently put to use by both Lane-Kent kids, but especially Kala. She headed into the _Daily Star_ building with her head up, backpack slung casually over one shoulder, her heeled boots rapping the tile floor authoritatively. She seemed so at home that a couple of cub reporters actually got out of her way and let her have the elevator car they were waiting for. Kala managed not to smirk until the doors closed.

She went straight up to the top floor, and was halfway across the bullpen before someone noticed her. "Hey," a scowling young man called. "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Tobie," Kala replied, looking up at him coyly through her eyelashes. He would've been handsome, if he would've lost the sour look, so she gave him the slow grin that made high school boys forget where they were.

She'd expected him to at least smile, but he just looked annoyed. Shaking his head, he got up to lead her to Tobie's office, and Kala watched him warily. At least the other men in the office were behaving in more familiar ways; Kala got the obvious look over, the sly wait-until-you-walk-past glance, and a couple of friendly grins. She had grown accustomed to such treatment by men who didn't realize how young she actually was, and it amused her. It gave her parents – and her brother – fits, but Kala considered herself above all of it. That aloof attitude just seemed to encourage most of them, though…

Tobie's office was only partially glassed-in, and the editor was reading something at her desk, so she didn't see them approach. The young man opened the door and said in an aggravated tone, "Raines, someone to see you." He stepped back, not even bothering to hold the door for Kala, and muttered, "Young enough to be her daughter, too…"

"Excuse me?" Kala glared at him sharply, catching the door. "Just _what_ are you implying?" Too late, she realized that her attempt to charm him might've been taken as something else entirely. She'd been raised to be very open-minded, but the implication freaked her out a bit. Tobie was cool, but she was, well, _Mom's_ age.

Tobie had stood up the moment the door opened, and Kala's tone filled her in on the muttered comment she'd missed. Glowering at her employee, she snapped, "Listen, McAvery, she's _fifteen_. And essentially my niece." Holding up her left hand, with its slender gold ring, she added, "Not to mention, I am very happily married. Keep your perverse imaginings to yourself."

Never one to forgo putting her two cents into the conversation, Kala glared at him too, aware that they had the attention of the entire newsroom. "Besides which, my mother _and_ my father are department heads at the _Daily Planet_. I don't fraternize with the enemy." On that note, she spun on her heel and stalked into Tobie's office, where she promptly hopped up onto the desk and swung her feet like a second-grader.

With a last glower at her staff, Tobie sat back down. "Get off the desk, brat," she said. "And you could've just told him you were straight."

"But Aunt Tobie, that never stopped you before," Kala responded immediately, unable to contain her gleeful grin as she slid off the desk and into the chair opposite Tobie. Mom _had_ asked Jason to give Tobie hell, not knowing that Kala would be the one delivering her invitation, and this was the best way to unnerve and annoy her at the moment. "With your reputation, straightness is just a challenge to be overcome."

Tobie gave a heavy sigh. "You eavesdropped _way_ too much as a child, Kala. And if I was _that_ good at converting straight girls, I would've bagged your mom when we were in college."

"You respect Mom too much to add her to your _long_ list of conquests," Kala dismissed the comment blithely, as if she hadn't just said aloud what had remained unspoken between the two friends for twenty years. "Anyway, since I went to your wedding, I know perfectly well you're off the market."

"I've been off the market ever since I met Maggie," Tobie smiled at the memory. "She made quite the impression…"

"I've heard," Kala said dryly. "You were so enraptured watching her direct traffic that you rear-ended some guy's car, and then tried to pick her up when she wrote you a ticket for it."

"Never underestimate the power of a woman in uniform," Tobie said with a smirk.

"Never underestimate the audacity of a reporter," Kala shot back.

That earned a grudging grin from EIC Raines. "Nice vocabulary. People might actually think your parents are writers or something."

"Hey, they still have a front-page byline now and then," Kala replied. "Can the Editor in Chief of _this_ newspaper say as much? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Read the _Star_ and find out," Tobie retorted. "Might do you some good to read some news that _doesn't_ exist to impress its investors."

Kala made a reasonable impression of a mewling cat. "_That_ was catty. Sounds like you think you have something to prove."

"To you? Not a thing," Tobie said, sitting back in her chair. "The only nice thing about being north of thirty-five is not having to defend myself against arrogant little squirts like you. I've _survived_ being just as much of a snarky little shit as you are right now, and that's accomplishment enough."

"You know, you really have a poetic way of talking about your wild youth," Kala commented, leaning back in her own chair. "Anyway, if you can stop being defensive for five seconds, I actually have a reason to be here."

"Besides trying to take over your mom's job of heckling me?" Tobie replied, smiling.

"Yeah, there's a party this weekend you won't want to miss," Kala said, rummaging in her backpack for the invitation. "Especially since Jason's downtown at SCU headquarters right now, inviting your wife, and I just invited Jamie."

Tobie opened the invitation and glanced at it. "Yeah, I think I can make this one," she said. Turning to look at Kala, her habitual sarcastic expression softened. "It's hard to believe you're gonna be sixteen. I still remember the goofy little kid with the pigtails and the big cheesy grin."

The Lane eyebrow ticked up at that. "Don't go all sentimental on me, Aunt Tobie," Kala warned half-heartedly. "It just doesn't suit your image." She couldn't quite help smiling, though.

"Nice to see the grin's improved a bit," Tobie commented, giving her a critical look. "Almost lady-like. Good thing your grandparents rubbed off on you. When you were little, half the time you looked like some kind of deranged monkey. Or wanting to _be_ a deranged monkey, for that matter."

"And when I have my own band, I think I'll call it KLK and the Deranged Monkeys. What do you think? Think it'll stand out?" Kala's eyes twinkled merrily.

Tobie laughed. "Get out of my office, you brat. I'll see you at the party." Kala came around the desk to hug her, and the editor watched her leave with a slight smile. She had never wanted children of her own, but to her surprise, she'd gotten along well with the twins from the first meeting. Maybe because she never treated them like children – never knowing _how_ you were supposed to treat children in the first place.

It was easy to fall into the habit of treating the twins as adults. They'd always been precocious, learning to speak and read and write earlier than most children. They had also both shown an early understanding of adult concepts like sarcasm, and developed keen wits at an age when most kids' idea of humor was a guy slipping on a banana peel.

On the other hand, Jason and Kala had shown some very childish naïveté at times. Completely unaware that Tobie didn't particularly like kids, they had both adored her and climbed into her lap at every opportunity, greeting her with sticky hugs and beaming smiles that she just couldn't ignore. That experience had been very useful when Maggie's ex-husband decided to let her daughter start visiting more often; Maggie's on-call schedule meant that Tobie frequently found herself taking care of Jamie. It could've been very awkward, but somehow they managed to wind up as friends. Other than a standoffish period in Jamie's mid-teens, family life was fairly enjoyable.

"Next thing you know I'll start wanting a house and a picket fence and a dog," Tobie sighed to herself. "Dammit, Raines, you're getting old and senile. Leave the happy housewife crap to Lucy, she makes it look good." On that amusing thought, she turned her mind back to work.

…

Jason's final stop was a place most teenagers wouldn't be comfortable: the headquarters of Metropolis' Special Crime Unit. Few sixteen-year-old boys were at ease around the police, even if they had nothing to feel guilty about. Jason, however, had a spotless conscience and the knowledge that Aunt Maggie adored him, so he headed in to see the desk sergeant with a smile. "I'm here to see Inspector Sawyer," he said confidently.

This particular officer wasn't one Jason knew, and the older man looked at him for a moment. "On what business?"

"Inviting her to my birthday party," Jason said, hoping that that didn't sound as lame as he thought it did. "I'm her nephew, Jason Kent."

A voice behind him said gruffly, "Arrest him. He's Lois Lane's son; he's bound to have done _something_."

"Hi, Lieutenant Turpin," Jason said with a grin, holding out his hand. "My sister's the evil twin, not me, remember?"

"Yeah, and the day we all start believing that, you'll start your career in crime," Turpin replied, shaking it before catching his shoulder. "C'mon, kid, I'll walk you to Mags' office. Now what's this about a party? You kids going to behave?"

"Of course we'll behave … badly, as always," Jason quipped, getting a chuckle from Turpin. "Seriously, though. Uncle Perry's throwing us a _real_ party. Kala's got a fancy dress nobody's seen, that's probably black anyway, and I've got a new suit."

"Very nice," Turpin said with actual interest. "And you're inviting your mom's crowd?"

"Well, they are my aunts," Jason said with a shrug. "If Aunt Maggie will come to the party, she can keep them in line."

"I'm sure she will, if for no other reason than to make sure that gang of high-powered reporters doesn't decide to take over the world," Turpin grinned fondly. They had arrived at a door with _Inspector Margaret Sawyer_ neatly lettered on the frosted glass window. The older man rapped once on the glass before opening the door. "Mags, got a miscreant here to see you," he said, giving Jason a quick wink.

The boy just shook his head slightly as he walked in. Maggie was looking up warmly from behind her desk, her ice-blue eyes thawed by affection when she saw Jason. Ten years had not changed her much in Jason's eyes; her light blonde hair didn't show gray, and she still had the same aura of competence and confidence that Jason had admired when he was little.

"Hey there, you," Maggie said, getting up to hug Jason. It still felt weird to him to realize he was taller than her; after his last growth spurt, Jason was nearly six feet tall.

"Hi, Aunt Maggie," He returned the hug before sitting down across from her.

"I'd ask what brings you to the precinct, but I have a pretty good idea," Maggie said with a small smile, taking her own seat again.

"Well, yeah, deductive reasoning and all that." Jason reached into his backpack for her invitation. "You know our birthday's coming up, and you probably even know that Uncle Perry rented out the Centennial ballroom."

"Actually, no," Maggie corrected gently as she took the invitation. "The heating vents in here run directly over the duty desk. I heard you tell Sergeant Wilco why you were here."

Jason had to laugh. "You know what Mom would say; typical devious cop."

"Half my friends are reporters, I have to be devious just to stay ahead," Maggie replied honestly. She opened the invitation and scanned it, unable to hold back the smile. "Of course I'll be there, Jason. Do I get to bring a date?"

Jason smiled and nodded. "You can actually bring another guest. Kal's already at the _Star_ inviting Tobie. For some reason, she likes invading enemy territory."

"I'd pity Tobie, but she enjoys sparring with the competition," Maggie sighed. "There are days when I envy her for working in a field where she can have a drink with her opposition."

A worried frown crossed Jason's face for a moment. "Reporters get shot at too. Not as often as you guys, but they're usually not expecting it, so I guess that's worse in some ways."

One pale blonde eyebrow arched up, and Maggie smiled at him. "From the mouths of babes, hmm? You've got a point there. Anybody ever tell you you're as quick as your mom and as deep as your dad?"

"Not really," Jason murmured, trying to hide an embarrassed little grin. "I don't think a lot of people think Dad is deep."

Maggie gave him a knowing look. "Yeah, but _you_ know better. And so does anyone close to him. He's a very smart man, your father. Anybody that klutzy has some very deep thoughts going on – the kind that keep him from paying attention to little things like whether there's any furniture in his way."

_Or he's listening to half the world, trying to stay ahead of the latest disaster_, Jason thought, but it amounted to the same thing. "That's probably true."

"Of course it is. Cops can't lie," Maggie told him with a wink. Her phone rang at that moment, and she gave him an apologetic smile. "Duty calls."

"Be safe, Aunt Maggie," Jason said the same way he always did these days, quickly coming around her side of the desk to hug her. "I'll see you at the party."

"Take care, kid," she said, and answered the phone. Jason showed himself out, waving at Lieutenant Turpin as he walked by. The wall clock proclaimed the time as being four-thirty; plenty of time for one last invitation.

Jason took the bus to his destination, getting off a few blocks away to buy some carnations from a sidewalk flower-vendor. He always brought cheerful flowers, in this case red and white striped ones, and he had the seller wrap them with a bright ribbon. Carrying the carnations, Jason walked the last two blocks in thoughtful silence.

Once inside the gates, it seemed he could feel the November chill that much more. Stately trees loomed over him, their leaves skirling along the path, and the weathered granite stones added to the feel of age and permanence. Some might have found fear within the cemetery's stone walls, but Jason found only serenity.

And, at Nana's grave, he found his sister. An invitation and a purple rose lay atop Ella's headstone, and Kala sat beside it, knees drawn up to her chin and the cold November wind playing with her hair. Jason walked around the graves with exaggerated care; he had once, unthinkingly, trod on the very foot of Nana's resting place, and Kala had gone berserk, lecturing him about respect for the dead and burial desecration. The thought of _stepping_ on his beloved grandmother horrified him enough that Jason never made that mistake again.

Laying his carnations and invitation beside Kala's, where they looked like exactly the kind of well-meant but mismatched gift a couple of kids would give their grandmother, Jason sat down next to his sister. He offered her his hand, and she took it, the two of them contemplating the words etched in fine black granite. _Elinore Gwendolyn Lane_, _Beloved Wife_, _Dearest Mother_, _Best Nana Ever_. The last three words hadn't seemed to fit the somber mood of the cemetery, but Jason and Kala had argued fiercely for them. Nora and Joanna had supported them, Michelle had gone along with them, and Sam as the oldest grandchild had finally managed to convince the adults. "She _is_ the best nana ever," he'd said, tears in his eyes. "Not _was_. _**Is**_. And always will be. Why're we gonna put something like 'loved grandmother' when it's not what we _feel_ and what we _mean_?"

The first few times Jason had come here, he'd found himself crying almost silently. But gradually, the sorrow had begun to seep away, replaced by the comfort he'd always felt in Nana's presence. Now, six months after her passing, neither he nor Kala wept at the grave. It was a place of solace, not of grief, and though they still mourned her, the pain was not as keen as it had once been.

Softly, Kala began to sing, lyrics from _Aida_, a halting pause between each line. "I am here to tell you we can never meet again… Simple really, isn't it, a word or two and then… A lifetime of not knowing where or how or why or when… You think of me or speak of me and wonder what befell… The someone you once loved … so long ago … so well…"

Jason squeezed her hand as she trailed off, and Kala leaned against his shoulder. For that moment, they were so perfectly in synch with each other that words were unnecessary. All of their arguments, the stress of their daily lives straddling two worlds, were gone, blown away by the same wind that now flipped a perfect red maple leaf onto Jason's jacket.

Kala looked over at the leaf, clinging just over Jason's heart, and smiled. "We miss you, too, Nana."

…

A familiar sound reached Clark's super-sensitive hearing: Jason and Kala, bickering as usual. "We're _early_," his son groused. "So you didn't have to be such a jerk to Giselle after all."

"Yes, I did," Kala shot back. "Otherwise she would've sucked up all your free time _and_ what pitiful few brain cells are still in there. I swear, Jason, your IQ drops like the temperature in the Arctic whenever she's around."

The pair was in the elevators, and Clark quickly finished up the paperwork he was in the midst of, resolutely ignoring the argument forty floors below. The twins had to work things out on their own; they both resented parental interference in their squabbles. After the first few times of being shocked and horrified by them screaming insults at each other, Clark had adopted a 'no intervention until blood is spilled' policy. Fortunately, Lois agreed with him on the matter, and was generally amused by the petty quarreling her children indulged it. It must've reminded her of most of her friendships; the more Jason and Kala sniped and complained, the more intensely they actually cared about each other. Weird, to Clark's way of thinking, but patently true. Besides, Lois had commented offhand once, they'd been doing this since the womb. At least they weren't physically kicking each other all day anymore. She had paused for a moment to consider, then added, "Well, most of the time, anyway."

A few minutes later, Jason and Kala swung through the bullpen doors. Every reporter knew them on sight and greeted them, but they barely made it ten steps into the room before their biggest admirer saw them. "_Kala_! _Jason_!" Kristin called, dashing out of Lois' office toward them. She pounced on them for hugs, asking excitedly, "What didja learn in big-kid school today?"

"That redheaded children are, genetically, smarter and more beautiful than anyone else," Kala said, tapping Kristin's nose fondly.

The little girl giggled, then held up her hands. "Swing me?" she pleaded. Jason and Kala each grabbed a hand. Walking on either side of her, they gently swung her between them with each step all the way to Lois' office. Kala hugged her mother as if they hadn't quarreled that morning, hugged Lana, and admired Kristin's picture before heading back out. They split up to hand out invitations around the office, Jason going over to International, Kala to City. The family members had already been invited, but Ron confirmed that he, Lucy, and all four Troupe kids would make it. Kala invited Perry and Jimmy and Laurel, surprising her mother's secretary.

When Richard saw a few moments later that both kids were hovering at Jimmy's desk, keeping him from accomplishing anything, he picked up the phone on Clark's desk and dialed Jimmy's extension from memory. "Hey, Jimmy," he said. "Tell the brats we have food, that'll get them out of your hair." At that distance, he saw Kala's shoulders tense; she was getting much better about not giving away what she could hear. Even five years ago, she would have dashed off toward the office before Jimmy could even relay the message.

Kala was first through the door with no obvious use of superpowers. She seemed to have inherited Lois' bottomless appetite and propensity for scavenging everyone else's meals. "Hi Dad," she said to Richard, kissing his cheek as he handed her the takeout box. Perching on the edge of Clark's desk to eat, she added, "We made it back in time, Daddy."

"I noticed," Clark said, smiling. Some people thought it was odd that his sixteen-year-old daughter still called him Daddy, but it just seemed endearing to him.

"I noticed that you're wearing my shirt," Richard said, tugging at the hem of it.

Kala yelped and pulled away, looking wounded. "You said I could," she replied, tugging the shoulder up with her sweetest smile. "It's comfortable. And it smells like you."

Richard hugged her for that. "Love you, too, Kiddle," he said with smile when he pulled back.

That was enough that make Kala hide her face. "_Dad_," she groaned at the old nickname, but smiled up at him after a moment.

Jason arrived just in time to prevent Kala from making her way back to the last egg roll, with Lois, Lana, and Kristin just behind him. Lana glanced at the clock on Clark's desk and sighed. "Time flies when you're having fun."

The younger woman just frowned at her before dropping herself into a chair. "See, that's what's wrong with you, Lana. Cleaning out my in-tray is _not_ fun. In no way and on any planet is that ever considered anything approaching _fun_," Lois muttered.

"Lois, you had nicotine patches in there, and quit smoking ten years ago," Lana retorted, crossing her arms to look at her scoldingly. Lois only gave a snort before taking a drink of the Mountain Dew she hadn't finished during her earlier snack. "Mostly quit, anyway. Clark, I don't know if you and Lois want to stay late today, but I think Richard and I will take the children home. Besides, I need to make sure Jason's suit fits correctly, and we need to do Kala's final fitting."

The girl's eyes sparkled at the mention of her new dress, a secret only she and Lana shared. It was a look that none of the family present missed. "I don't have much homework," she said quickly, looking pleadingly at her mother and father.

Lois and Clark shared a look full of adoration and understanding before Lois gave the twins an indulgent smile. "Sounds good to me," she volunteered. "Just get home before it gets too late. Both of you have school tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll second that," Clark said, trying not to laugh at the eager excitement on Kala's face as she almost tackled the both of them in gratitude. Even Jason had snickered. "We'll see you two later."

Hugs and kisses were exchanged, again – the three kids were all openly affectionate and brought that out in the adults – and peace was restored to the newsroom at last. Lois sighed, watching the elevator doors close, and Clark took her hand gently. "I don't know what we would've done without Richard and Lana," he murmured.

"Me neither," Lois replied. Realizing her tone was far too affectionate, she added with a teasing smile, "Just think how much they've saved us in babysitting fees."

"You are _impossible_," Clark told her, pulling her down for a kiss. "Wrap up the paperwork and we'll enjoy our free afternoon."

"What, no meeting?" Lois commented drolly, dark eyebrows rising. "No world collapsing? No urgent consultation? None of that? Well, I may drop dead of shock."

"Well, maybe _one_ meeting," Clark said, and his voice had lowered slightly, looking at her over the tops of his glasses so his royal blue gaze was unhindered. "A private conference between the heads of departments."

At that, Lois smiled, and it was almost her usual saucy grin, close enough for Clark to tell himself that the hint of hesitation was just stress. "Let's play it by ear, hero," she murmured, and kissed him again before leaving.

* * *


	7. When I Grow Up

**Hey, all, and Happy Wednesday. In honor of the second worst day of the week (after Monday), we decide to cheer you up with the latest chapter. Well, it's that and we managed to screw up and blow our post date on Saturday. Please excuse us and expect the next one on time next Saturday!**

**Also, after some NaNo weirdness and a few change-arounds, it seems that the beta team has evened out. htbthomas has returned to us from winning at Nano! *hugs her awesome Mom*, saavikam77 has requested to stay on after being our awesome lone beta for a month and we couldn't be happier, and sean_montgomery has returned from her hiatus! We're so happy to have you back, Ab!**

**

* * *

****_We could fly a helicopter  
Nothing left to talk about.  
Entertain you.  
Celebrate you.  
I'll be back to frame you._**

**_When I grow up,  
I'll be stable.  
When I grow up,  
I'll turn the tables._**

~ Garbage, _**When I Grow Up**_

* * *

They'd almost managed to somehow leave without getting it. An hour before the party, trying to gather up her dress and her heels and her jewelry, it struck Kala with a bolt of shocked horror, immediately pausing her in her preparations to dart across the hall into her brother's room. "Jason! Did you get it?" she whispered, urgency clear.

It took him a moment to get it, his expression rushed and aggravated. Then he made a face. "No," he hissed back, wary of Clark's hearing. Jason was still getting ready, his suit in its garment bag laid out on the bed while he searched with desperate speed for his cuff links.

Now it was time for his twin to look disbelieving. Her voice was a strangled whisper. "_What?_ Jason, we're leaving in five minutes!"

"I know," he muttered, finally finding the cuff links on top of Gazeera's cage. No telling how they had gotten up there in the first place. "But I couldn't do it with Mom around, could I? You know she would've spotted it in a heartbeat. And that's all we need."

"How are we gonna get it without her knowing?" Kala asked, pacing back and forth across the room in a nervous fury. "Crap, crap, crap! It was trouble enough trying not to let them see my dress and your suit before the actual party. Something like this is gonna stand out, Jason! And we can't do what we planned without it!"

Jason only rolled his eyes at his sister's melodrama. "Kala, just breathe, all right? We'll figure something out," he retorted, still packing. "Look, you're a girl. Go have a meltdown in the living room, okay? Pretend that your hair is frizzing or the dress isn't fitting right or you broke the zipper or something. As soon as they aren't paying attention, I'll run out and pick it up. Okay? Geez!"

Oh, the look of insulted dignity she gave him for that! Jaw locking, Kala narrowed those hazel eyes on her brother as she turned to face him. No one implied that she was just like every other girl on the planet; not even her twin brother. "Bull," she said flatly as she stalked up to him. "I'm faster and we both know it. Now, _you_ go have the meltdown about your hair not lying down; there's a better chance that they'll believe it, Mr. Super-Curl of Justice. _I'll_ race down to the store and pick up the contraband. Deal?" Before he could even reply, Kala had turned on her heel and made for the door. "Good. Because the guy said he'd only hold it for us until his shift ended."

Still wondering how this had happened, Jason rolled his eyes and continued to dress. Once she was out of normal earshot, he couldn't resist a chuckle. Kala never had to know that that had been part of his plan all along.

…

Lois surveyed the Centennial Hotel's grand ballroom with a critical eye for several moments before nodding in approval at the elegant and tasteful décor. Ice blue, silver, and a touch of chocolate graced the tables. The fact that it looked good against her own slinky silver dress had nothing to do with her endorsement, but it didn't hurt. "Not bad, old man," she told Perry, although her gaze was questioning when it returned to him. "Never knew you to be any good with colors before. I mean, look at your wardrobe before Loueen started picking out your clothes."

He just smiled at that, his own grin knowing, but he refused to rise to the bait. "Don't look at me. Your little girl picked the colors – I told her to forget about the black."

That made Lois chuckle in mingled surprise and amusement. She would've expected Kala to pout until she got her favorite red, black, and purple. The reporter was about to question Perry on that very thing, knowing that the tale had to be hilarious, before Lana strolled up, looking more than a little pleased with herself. "I take it the last-minute dress adjustments were successful?" Perry asked her.

Those sea-green eyes danced with private amusement. "It did," Lana said, beaming. "And both Kala and Jason ought to be making their grand entrance any moment now."

Both Perry and Lois glanced at each other, the same thought on their minds. "Are you finally gonna tell us what color the kid's dress is, then?" the editor asked her in a mock-whisper. The dramatic way he glanced around after that was said just made Lois laugh.

"We all know it's black," a scoffing voice said behind them. Tobie had arrived, glass of punch in hand. She'd worn a dove gray dress that brought out the warm brown of her eyes.

The grin of mischief on the older man's face utterly belied his age. It was clear that he'd been waiting for this all evening. "Hello there, Raines," Perry said warmly, and Lois and Lana both winced. Just the saccharine tone in his gruff voice had sent Lois' eyes heavenward. "How's the tabloid business?"

"Almost as good as the investor ass-kissing business," Tobie replied smoothly. "You're looking exceptionally well-preserved this evening, White. Did your wife change the formaldehyde in the vat you sleep in?"

"Why, thank you," Perry said, eyes gleaming with enjoyment. Ever since Tobie's promotion, the two of them had sparred like this at every meeting. This explained why Lois kept them apart as often as she could. Then again, if it would keep Tobie from mentioning her dress, Perry was more than equipped to handle the younger woman. "You look lovely yourself. Did you take a couple lessons in how to look ladylike from _your_ wife? Y'know, the gun-toting gear-head cop?"

Loueen, who had just returned to her husband's side, groaned and rolled her eyes. She half-turned away from the group, as if to disassociate herself from the good-natured quarreling, but she caught a glimpse from across the room and her eyes went wide. "_Damn_," she said, gently elbowing her husband and indicating an approaching figure. "No, Perry, I think Tobie might've learned her stepdaughter's sartorial skills."

Everyone turned to look as Jamie walked up to them, and Tobie smirked. "Yeah, the kid cleans up nice, doesn't she? I swear, it comes from Maggie's side of the family. Jim never looked that good."

Lois couldn't help but give Maggie's daughter an impressed smile as she came into their midst. Another proof of the passage of time. Gawky little Jamie, who had always had glasses about a half a size too big for her, had just commanded the attention of several of Kala and Jason's friends, all eyes on the beauty that had just passed. "Obviously. You look amazing, Jamie."

"Not another word," Jamie said, glaring at all of them even as she hugged Lois. The champagne-colored dress she wore showed a bit of shoulder and leg, enough to get raised eyebrows from the older women.

Her stepmother couldn't resist a snarky grin. "Nice dress," Tobie quipped. "Didn't know you were on the prowl."

The blonde's cheeks blazed then, trying to hide her discomfiture. "I said _not a word_," Jamie muttered in a tone that sounded just a trifle defensive. "Someone told me this was a classy event, all right? I dressed appropriately."

That earned her a warm smile from Lana. "And well. The dress is perfect for you," the designer said soothingly to the nervous girl. Jamie may have grown out of her coltish phase, but she was still trying to find her way through the land mines of her early twenties while trying to seem as though she wasn't doing so. The family consensus was that she eventually would and do it well when the time came. In the next instant, still lost in her musings, Lana yelped as a sharply-dressed man snuck up behind her, kissing her shoulder. "Richard White, you are incorrigible!"

As always, that devilish smile of his was out in full force when he looked at his wife. "Only with you," he murmured meaningfully.

Everyone in the little crowd could feel them start to drift off into their own little world … until Lois decided enough was enough. The entire extended family loved that the pair was still so much in love, but sometimes you felt on the verge of a diabetic coma. So, as usual, Richard's former fiancée threw the Lane wrench in his plans. "Richard, that's a lie and we all know it," Lois opined, grinning. "She's just the only one willing to take you home at the end of the night. You'll flirt with anything in a skirt and we both know it."

"Hush, Lois, I _told_ you not to talk about our Thursday nights," Richard scolded with a wink, still snuggling up to Lana. "People will start to suspect." Lois rolled her eyes, and Lana swatted him with her handbag. In flinching away from it, he saw Jamie, and gave an impressed smile. "Wow. You look really nice, Jamie."

"Oh, God, not you, too," Jamie groaned. Chuckling, Lois put her arm around Jamie's shoulder and hugged the law student to her. The fact that Jason had had the world's biggest crush on the girl for the first three years they knew each other had never missed a single adult in the group. Then again, Jason's habit of falling over his own feet when he and Jamie were in the same room wasn't exactly something you could miss. Nor was the fact that, even now, none of them could stop teasing them about it. It had been pretty adorable at the time, Jason stuttering around her and Jamie totally oblivious.

Even as Lois was lost in thought, Richard continued, "Hey, wait 'til Jason gets here. He'll faint dead away. Do you know CPR?"

"I'm gonna _kill_ Kala," Jamie muttered, flushing now under all of this attention.

Lois gave a commiserating chuckle; she really should have known that the little monster would have a hand in this. Jason, of course, would take one look and revert back into a stumbling, uncoordinated eight-year-old. And in spite of herself, Lois found herself looking forward to the sight.

Lana, meanwhile, was sighing helplessly at her husband. "Would it kill you to behave yourself? Between you and your uncle, the Whites have cornered the market on causing trouble." The warmth in her gaze belied the stern remark.

To which Richard's reply had simply been an adoring smile. "And since Lois is virtually an adopted White, I'd say you were right on the money there, Mrs. White."

She caught his implication a little too easily. Shaking her head at him despairingly, the redhead caught Lois's eye. "Lois, did Clark say when he expected to be here with Ben and Martha?"

Before the dark-haired woman could even reply, Perry interjected with a fond smile, "Late. As always. Don't worry, he'll get here at the last possible second before you want to kill him for not showing up. He's done it for years."

Bit by bit, the group of them was coalescing opposite the doors through which Lana had said Jason and Kala planned to make their entrances. As usual whenever several of Lois' friends gathered in one place, the rest seemed to gravitate toward them. Cat was the next to arrive, introducing her date to the girls and then gently shooing him away to find her some punch. Her blue eyes caught Lois' and Tobie's meaningfully as she glanced toward the refreshment table; it had been several years since she had fallen off the wagon in the first place and a year since her last glass. That, Lois and Tobie had both made sure of. "Hopefully none of these crazy kids will spike it," she said with a trace of worry, trying to smile the statement away.

Lois smiled at her friend proudly and shook her head.

"Nah, most of them know Lois by reputation, and they were all warned she'd throw them out if they tried," Tobie said with a subtle flippant shrug. Since that last night in Cat's apartment, none of the three of them discussed what had happened. But none of them had forgotten the last drink that the newscaster had taken. "You're safe. No teenager wants to get his ass handed to him by a five-foot-five female reporter, no matter how famous."

Cat nodded with grateful relief, her smile less nervy when she turned and her attention shifted to poor Jamie. "Oh, Jamie, I love that dress! Where did you get it?"

"Thanks," Jamie said with a sigh, but before she could change the subject, Tobie turned to her with a smirk.

"Yeah, we were just heckling her … about … it…" The _Star_ editor trailed off, her gaze going past Jamie, and her eyes grew wide. In a very different tone, she murmured, "Oh, hell yeah."

Of course everyone turned to look. What they saw was unexpected: a tall, graceful blonde wearing a sleek black dress, and wearing it very well indeed. It seemed everyone had turned out in their best for the party. After a moment, Perry said quietly, "I retract the 'gun-toting gear-head cop' comment. Not that it's not _true_, mind you, it's just that it's no longer valid in context."

Maggie Sawyer rolled her eyes at them all. "You all act like you've never seen a cop in a dress before."

"I'd ask you to marry me, but you already did," Tobie purred. "_Damn_, woman."

"And you all complain about me and Lana," Richard muttered.

"We don't complain about you and Red," Loueen told him, adroitly preventing a snarkfest between Richard and Tobie. After ten years, the open hostility between them had softened, but they couldn't resist taunting each other. "We just make sure to take our insulin on time. It's really okay, though. Sometimes it's nice to know that whirlwind romances and fairytale weddings do work out in the end."

_Sometimes… _Lois hid her expression by taking a sip of punch. Perry covered for her by growling at his wife, "And just what did you mean by that?" Loueen merely laughed and kissed his cheek.

Turning away from them to regain her composure, Lois saw a familiar black-haired head across the room. Martha and Ben made their way over the group, Clark beside them, easily the tallest man in the room. He caught sight of Lois then, and began to smile automatically … but then his expression froze.

Lois felt her heart sink as Clark looked utterly blank for a few seconds. But then he smiled, and this wasn't the hi-honey-I-know-I'm-late smile. That was Kal-El's smile, knowing and full of promise, and the appreciation in it warmed Lois all the way down to her toes. He didn't glance away until he was beside her, his warm hands on her waist, those amazing blue eyes intent on hers. "You look amazing," he murmured, and bent to kiss her.

That was exactly what she needed to hear. Smiling against his lips, Lois murmured, "So it was worth hiding this dress at the dry cleaners for a week, hmm?"

"Very." Although the smile on his face was a much more satisfying reply. Finally, Lois gave a happy sigh and let her guard down. That had been the one thing she'd hoped for after the last few weeks.

Ben and Martha had just gotten around to exchanging pleasantries with Lana, having been making the rounds and catching up on the social chitchat while Clark and Lois had had their moment. "And that dress _exactly_ matches your eyes," Martha was saying, her smile warm as she hugged the redhead, then turned to the rest of the group. "My goodness, we all practically put on a pageant tonight, didn't we?"

Several grins were shared around, as well as a bit of laughter. "We can't disappoint the kids, you know," Cat said with a smile, sipping the punch her date had brought her. "We all have to look our best for Jason and Kala, right?"

"That's all right," Ben said. "I brought the loveliest lady to the party."

Fond smiles from everyone followed that comment. Even Clark turned a broad grin toward the couple; he and Ben had grown closer over the years, helped by the fact that Ben had insisted Jonathan's photo remain on the mantle even after he'd married Martha and moved in to the Kent farmhouse.

"Speaking of the brats," Perry said with affectionate bluster, "did they inherit your sense of timing, Kent? I would've expected them to make their entrance by now."

"Kala doesn't even want Jason to see the dress before she walks in, so she's waiting on him," Lana supplied. "And he's probably waiting on Giselle."

Lois glanced up and toward the main entrance curiously, just in time to see her sister and Ron making their way toward them across the room. In the next moment, Jimmy arrived with camera in hand, calling out "Smile!" and distracting them all from their current train of thought.

…

Elise sat on her bed, staring at her open closet. Her lovely plum-colored dress hung from the hook on the back of the door, seeming to taunt her. "I'm not going," she murmured.

A nagging little voice in the back of her brain spoke up. _Then why did you take out the dress and find the heels that match?_ "I can't go. I threw away the invitation Kala snuck into my bag," Elise said stubbornly. _After you memorized where and when the party was being held,_ the voice countered.

"Why would I go to a party just to watch that fluff-brained little moron hang all over him," Elise sighed. "He moved on, so did I. There's no point in going." She collapsed backward onto her bed, closing her eyes.

Images flickered through her mind: a carriage ride through Centennial Park on Valentine's Day, hooves clopping along beneath a canopy of dogwood blooms; Jason's hand in hers, fingers entwined; the serious, intent look on his face as he'd leaned in to kiss her. Elise had only seen that look on Jason's face when he was playing the piano. The rest of the time, his habitual expression suggested that he was following several lines of thought at once. Only for music, and for her, did he devote his entire attention to only one thing…

She'd half-expected, that Valentine's Day, for Jason to try for something more than a kiss. But no, his hands had stayed very properly either at her shoulders or her waist, never drifting into dangerous territory, and when he nuzzled against her cheek his lips only brushed her neck, a feather-light graze. Jason Kent wasn't like most boys; he didn't leave hickeys, he didn't try to cop a feel, and Elise felt perfectly safe when she was alone with him. She'd even once been in his room for almost an hour with no one else home, both of them so absorbed in the biology homework that they hadn't even realized there were no parents in the house.

Of course, one of the things that made Elise feel weird was the fact that when Mr. Kent came home and found them there, sprawled on Jason's bed arguing over where to get the samples for their next experiment, he hadn't even reprimanded them. Clark had just asked Elise if she was staying for dinner, and if both kids were in the mood for pizza. It had seemed perfectly natural at the time, but later, Elise realized that she didn't know anyone whose parents trusted them that much. _Any_ dad should've been suspicious at finding his son's girlfriend in his room behind closed doors, but Clark acted like he'd known all along that they were up there studying. Jason hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary about the incident, either.

The whole damn family was kind of weird, anyway. After about a month of dating Jason, during which everyone had been very guarded and Kala was openly hostile, things had suddenly calmed down overnight. Elise was treated like a member of the family, even invited along on vacations. It seemed like she'd passed some kind of test that admitted her into a secret society.

The only problem was, no one had told her what was going on. Sometimes Mr. Kent and Mrs. White would say something about that town they'd grown up in, some kind of insider's joke that went over Elise's head but the rest of the family seemed to get it. Or sometimes Mrs. Lane-Kent would make some remark about the newspaper business, something highly technical that everyone else seemed to get. And then there were the veiled comments that seemed to be in code, whispers about Mr. Kent's _other_ job and other incomprehensible things. Elise _hated_ being on the outside of a joke.

The dress still hung there, looking fetching. For all of the things she didn't understand, all of the strangeness of Jason's family, Elise had loved the time she spent with them. An only child, she enjoyed being part of the close bond between Jason, Kala, and Kristin. And the easy affection between all four parents and the kids was very comfortable. _He's not the only one who misses you,_ Kala had said.

"No way," Elise said aloud. She picked up the pair of heels that perfectly matched the dress and flung them into the closet, then dragged out her algebra book. "Nobody's worth making _that_ much of a fool of myself over."

…

Fiddling with his cuff links, Jason waited by the front door for Giselle to arrive. Kala was still hiding somewhere, and he didn't see his date, either. Sighing, he walked outside to wait for Giselle. Sometimes she was late to things – she didn't like the subway, and her mom was often busy, so it was hard for her to get a ride. Jason could deal with that, though it irked his sense of punctuality.

After a few minutes, Jason saw a familiar car coming up the street. Giselle's mother, Justine Davenport, drove a black BMW. It wasn't exactly an uncommon car on the streets of Metropolis, though, so he looked a little closer.

Even from ten blocks away, a second's concentration brought the car into sharp relief, reminding Jason of his camera's zoom function. Unlike the camera, however, he was also seeing _through_ the other cars on the street. They were just misty outlines as he focused on the BMW, and then the car itself turned hazy as he looked inside it.

That was Mrs. Davenport behind the wheel, an elegant blonde with piercing blue eyes. And beside her, Giselle was slumped in her seat, looking sullen. Jason sighed; she was probably mad about being late. Sometimes he thought Giselle was too hard on herself. She had these strange moods where she could be surly and irritable for no apparent reason. He always tried to cajole her out of it, and about half the time he succeeded. The rest of the time he just waited for her mood to change. After all, Dad accepted Mom's early-morning surliness as part of her personality, meeting her growling incoherence with patience and humor. If he could simply chuckle when Mom actually _snarled_ at him on the way to her coffee, then Jason could put up with a little moodiness.

He waited by the curb, pretending to look for the BMW until it was close enough that anyone without x-ray vision could've spotted it. As Mrs. Davenport pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, Jason headed down the steps to open the door. "Hi," he said to Giselle, giving her his most brilliant smile. Glancing past her, he added, "Thank you very much for bringing her, Mrs. Davenport."

She smiled back, cool amusement in her eyes, "You're welcome, Jason. Giselle, I'll see you this evening."

Uncrossing her arms, Giselle gave a gusty sigh, her nettled expression starting to clear. "Sure," the girl said in a measured tone, getting out of the car. "See you later." Giselle didn't look back as Jason closed the door behind her and Mrs. Davenport drove off. _Yeah, it's definitely about her being late_.

Just looking at her startled him, still trying to get used to the fact that she was with him. "You look gorgeous," Jason managed as Giselle looked speculatively up at the Centennial before her. She was wearing a pale pink dress that flowed over every curve, one he hadn't seen before this party.

After a moment, Giselle turned to him, and for a moment Jason saw something almost despairing in her eyes. Something that just made him want to protect her from everything in the world. "You think so?" she asked with a wistful smile.

The look was somewhat incredulous. These moods of hers never failed to mystify him. How could she not know? "Of course," Jason said earnestly, willing her to believe him. "Giselle, you're always beautiful. But tonight … that dress…" His cheeks flamed slightly when he gave a helpless shrug. "You're the one in the writing department, not me. I don't have the words."

It seemed that was enough, a smile peeking out finally, and she leaned up to kiss him. "You're sweet," Giselle murmured as her lips brushed his cheek. Jason grinned himself then, linked his arm through hers, and escorted her through the front doors of Metropolis' finest hotel.

Jason barely paused at the doors to the ballroom; he didn't want to lose the confident momentum gained by walking through the lobby with such a beautiful girl on his arm. Even though he wasn't terribly happy about facing a crowd, who were all waiting for _him_, the knowledge that this was a crowd of friends and family helped. Still, it wouldn't do to hesitate. With a last smile to Giselle, he stepped through.

Applause greeted the pair. Jason knew he looked very sharp in a new black suit, and Giselle's pale pink dress suited her very well. The delighted expressions on everyone's faces made him beam joyfully, and Jason headed into the throng to greet all of his friends. Somewhere in the midst of talking to the guys from school, Giselle had to slip away. To freshen her makeup, she claimed with an embarrassed look. Jason squeezed her fingers before he let her go, and then turned his attention to the refreshments. He wove through the crowd, accepting compliments, until he found the punchbowl.

"Hey there, Jason," Jimmy said. The photographer had been talking to Laurel over glasses of punch, but he stopped to shake Jason's hand. "Really nice suit."

Ignoring the adult way of doing things for the moment, Jason shook, but also impulsively hugged him. "Thanks, Uncle Jimmy," he beamed. As it always did when the three had a chance to talk, the conversation wandered all over the visual arts map, from the best graphics programs to whether in-camera film effects were better than CGI. Jason didn't have the experience with all of the programs that the other two did, but that didn't stop him from asking questions. Eventually, one of the other office girls pulled Laurel away, but Jason was perfectly happy talking to his uncle.

Laughing at one of Jimmy's comments, Jason sipped his punch and happened to glance at the doors, a reflexive action that everyone in the ballroom had been doing ever since he and Giselle walked in. Kala was apparently taking her time, letting her brother glory in the spotlight before her arrival. And that was fine with Jason – he'd calmed enough to revel in the attention, talking to Jimmy about cameras. The conversation had led Jason to hope that the new digital camera he'd been eyeing was among the stack of presents at the opposite end of the room.

There was a sudden flurry of discussion to his left. This time, when Jason glanced at the doors, they were opening. Sebast walked in, escorting a raven-haired woman in a spectacular cobalt-blue dress. A halter-top with a modest neckline and a flaring skirt that fell below the knee, it was lovely, even alluring, but still fairly conservative.

"Wow," Jimmy said, his expression truly surprised. And even a little pleased. "Would you look at her? Your sister looks really nice."

_**Sister?! **_Jason blinked and shook his head. Yes, that was Kala, with her hair upswept and her makeup done less extravagantly, wearing a color Jason couldn't remember ever seeing on her. She looked … beautiful. Like a model. No, corny as it was, she looked like a princess. Actual blue-blooded royalty.

And for an instant, her own twin hadn't recognized her. The realization sent an icy tendril down Jason's spine even as he broke into a broad grin. "That's my sister," he said fiercely, as much out of pride as to chase that nagging moment from his memory. It was impossible for Kala to turn into someone he wouldn't recognize immediately. Laughable, even. With a nervous chuckle, he changed the topic, still stealing incredulous glances at Kala.

…

Every eye was fixed on Kala, and she knew it. She held her head high, one hand loosely tucked into Sebast's elbow, receiving the attention as her due. For a moment, there was absolute, awed silence in the room, and Kala smiled. A genuinely honest and delighted smile.

All of the adults just stood in amazed silence, watching the young woman and her escort enter. "Damn," Maggie said softly to Lois after a moment. "I really thought she was going to go for the Elvira look. The color suits her."

"Kudos to you," Cat was whispering to Lana at the same moment. "_I'd_ steal that dress, and I don't say that about many high school girls' wardrobes." Lana just gave her an enigmatic little grin.

As Kala was enveloped by her friends, all of them exclaiming over the dress, the parents discussed it amongst themselves with less volume but equal enthusiasm. Lana turned aside most of the praise, claiming that Kala had largely designed the dress with only a little help from her. "Still, it's incredible," Lucy protested. "For a minute there I almost didn't recognize Her Royal Bratness."

"Speaking of royalty, did you see the way she stalked in here?" Loueen was laughing, shaking her head. "My _God_, the confidence in that girl. If anyone ever doubts that's your daughter, Lois, just point that out. She's just as convinced of her own perfection as _you_ are. At least, the perfection of her looks – since we all know you've never been sane, Lane."

At that, Lois chuckled self-deprecatingly, trying not to think of her sneaking to the hair salon to cover the first strands of gray, and of the expensive moisturizer she hid in the back of the medicine cabinet, even though she used it nightly. "I've got news for you; _that_ she doesn't get from me," Lois said a little distantly as she watched her child, shaking her head a bit. "I was never that confident. Especially not at that age."

"She wasn't," Lucy chimed in. "Geez, Lois and I spent our entire adolescence each thinking the other was the good-looking one. You guys didn't know her until after she was mostly out of the 'I look like a boy' phase."

That seemed to stump Raines, leaving her looking puzzled. It was true that Lois had still been a little less gung-ho when they had met, but she'd always assumed that what she thought of as the Lane take-no-prisoners decree had extended far back into Lois' childhood. "You thought you looked like a _boy_, Lane?" she scoffed, looking wonderingly at Lois. "With the skirts you were wearing in college?"

"That's not Lois," Maggie said flatly, now watching Kala move from crowd to crowd. "Tobie, you've known Lois since college, but I'm more inclined to take Lucy's word on her teenage years. People can change a lot in a very short time around that age, you know."

"See, that's what scares me," Lucy said. "Kala doesn't remind me of teenage Lois. She reminds me of twenty-something Lois."

Lana cleared her throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Actually, she reminds me of myself at that age," she said quietly.

That comment caused everyone to turn skeptical looks on her. "You know, Lana, you're definitely gorgeous," Loueen said after a moment, "but I just can't see a teenage version of you acting the way Kala does. Not that the kid is mean-spirited, really, but I can't see you having a mean bone in your body. Ever. And I've known you a decade."

"I was never _quite_ as liberated as she is," Lana expounded, her gaze drifting to Kala fondly. "I _am_ a small-town girl, even now. But when I was sixteen, I was the most beautiful girl in the whole school – probably the most beautiful woman of any age in the entire town. And I _knew_ it. Ask Clark – I carried myself like a queen, just the way Kala was right then." She shrugged with feeling. "Fortunately, I grew out of _that_."

Never one to miss an opportunity, Richard stepped forward to hug her from behind. "I still happen to think you're the most beautiful woman in town," he said, smiling down at her. She kissed his cheek in thanks for the compliment. Lucy and Loueen both started making gagging noises at Richard's overt romanticism.

Tobie, meanwhile, was ever the reporter and had turned to Clark for confirmation. "Lana was sort of…" he began, and trailed off.

"Arrogant? Stuck up?" Lana supplied gently. "And not to mention, utterly convinced that my looks were my only asset. Kala, fortunately, doesn't seem to have that problem."

"Yeah, she's convinced she's brilliant and witty and perfect in every _other_ possible way, too," Jamie put in. She'd hung back with the grownups while the high school crowd fawned over Kala. "Not that she's not right, on some counts. She _is_ smart, and she does have a wicked sense of humor. But Kala's superiority complex is kind of depressing to anybody who didn't grow up with her level of confidence." Automatically, she glanced at Maggie and added, "Not your fault, Mom. Blame those hideous glasses."

Lois winced, forcibly stifling her need to defend her daughter. She didn't particularly like Kala's tendency to be supercilious, but most of them didn't know one of the major reasons why. Kala was, after all, Superman's daughter as much as hers; she had _superpowers_. Her confidence came from those strengths, and Lois knew perfectly well that if she'd had those gifts at that age, she probably would have suffered from the same egotism.

"What do you expect from the daughter of the Official Office Hot Chick?" Loueen teased lightly, elbowing Lois. "Kala's all right. She's just her mother's daughter, and growing into her mother's legacy of fearlessness a little early, that's all."

Lois smiled, but didn't quite meet anyone's gaze. She was beginning to see why Kala _hated_ to hear those words. But she really didn't want to get too deeply into the differences between herself and Kala, how she had been an awkward, angry teenager who felt as though she wasn't good enough for anyone: too skinny, too coltish, and worst of all, not the son her father had wanted. Too much of a boy without actually being one, all of the drive and ambition she'd cultivated scaring off dates but still failing to impress General Lane.

"And that's a thought to terrify anyone," Tobie was saying. "Seriously, though. Lois, you know I love the kid. I wouldn't say this if I didn't. But you'd better keep an eye on her. She's gonna be trouble."

Lois had been growing steadily more uncomfortable with this conversation for a while now, especially since she had made the decision to just let all of her worries go for the evening and just enjoy herself. The warning look was on her face when she retorted, "She already _is_ trouble. And news flash, Tobe; I did _not_ come to my daughter's birthday party for a parenting lecture! From someone who never _had_ kids and only co-parented one! Drop it."

The rest of the women backed off at that, realizing that Lois had had enough, but Tobie and Lois had been arguing since college. "Just watch her with boys," Tobie warned. "And men. She had half my office panting in her wake."

"Well, it's hardly Lois' fault that you staff your newspaper entirely with perverts," Cat interjected, and that finally won a laugh. Tobie mimed pouring her drink on Cat, and Lois managed to step away for a moment to collect herself.

She'd barely turned her back on her friends when she felt a light touch on her elbow. Lois looked up, startled, and saw Lana's concerned expression. The reporter felt her heart plummet. _Oh jeez, here comes the lecture from Ms. I'm-a-natural-at-mothering, telling me how badly I've screwed up my kid_, she thought, and briefly considered just making a run for it. And then hated herself for being so defensive. It wasn't the redhead's fault that things had been easier with Kristin.

It just made her feel worse for her thoughts when Lana touched her shoulder, her green eyes reassuring. "She's fine, Lois," Lana said. "Every girl has issues at this age; she'll grow out of it. You, meanwhile, don't stop being the mom you've always been, but don't fret yourself to death, either." Leaning in and lowering her voice to a whisper, the redhead added, "You raised the super-twins alone for the first few years, Lois. Do you have any idea how much I admire you for that?"

Lois' eyes went wide at that. It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out all her worries and fears to Lana, to have the discussion she'd been dreading ever since Kala began to change from sweet but opinionated little girl to sullen snarky teen. But at precisely that moment, Kala broke away from her flock of admirers and hurried toward the parents. She practically danced up to Perry, eyes agleam, and twirled to make her dress flare. "Isn't this the best dress _ever_?"

"Not bad, there, kiddo," Perry commented, favoring her with a fond smile. Lois felt her heart clench; that was her bright-eyed little girl, her darling, so full of excitement she had to share it or burst. The way they'd quarreled over that stupid blouse earlier in the week seemed to melt away in a sudden rush of adoration.

Kala had rushed over to the ladies, preening under their praise and teasing Jamie Sawyer about the amount of leg she was showing off. She dove at Lana, sweeping her into a hug and kissing her cheek. "Thank you _so much_ for the dress," Kala said excitedly, as Lana laughed and hugged her back.

Then Kala turned to her mother and enveloped her in an even more fiercely delighted hug, one that left Lois gasping. "And thank you for the legs that make the dress look so great, Mom," Kala said, beaming at her own wit.

Everyone in earshot burst into laughter, except Lois. She smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek, but Kala pulled back, searching her expression. Seeing the preoccupied, almost haunted look on her mother's face, Kala displayed her own version of the infamous Lane Pout. "_Mom_. Please don't tell me you're getting all maudlin over how fast Jason and I are growing up."

The light-hearted tone belied the serious concern in those hazel eyes so much like Lois' own, and the reporter forced herself to smile. Now was not the time to go into all of this. And definitely not here. "No, sweetheart, only over how high you're growing. I'm still used to having to look down at you both."

The comment was enough to shift the girl's mindset back to herself. Eyes alight, Kala smirked. "Well, some of it's the heels." She extended a leg to show them off.

A pair of auburn brow rose at that. "So _that's_ where those went," Lana said lightly, her smile now admonishing, and enough to make Kala wince guiltily. "When you said you could find something that matched the dress, I didn't think you meant to look in _my_ closet, Kala Josephine." The dark-haired girl looked like she wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor.

While most of the women were snickering, and Lois was still being a bit subdued, Jason arrived without Giselle on his arm. His expression was almost blankly calm when he tapped Kala's shoulder lightly, asking in the most guileless voice, "Excuse me, ma'am, have you seen my sister? She's probably wearing black and enough eyeliner to put the entire cast of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ to shame."

"Dork," Kala muttered affectionately, grateful for the distraction. Posing dramatically, she grinned excitedly at him. "Like the dress, Mr. Armani?"

He fought the contagious smile that he felt rising up, but lost the battle as always. "Yeah, I actually wondered if you hired a stand-in. It's a nice change from colors named after stages of decomposition," Jason laughed, hugging her even as she socked him lightly in the chest. Turning slightly out of normal sight-range, he glanced at Lois and then back at Kala, angling one eyebrow up slightly.

With just the tiniest shake of her head to say not yet, she took her brother's arm and smiled sappily. "Jason, that suit really suits you," Kala crooned, brushing imaginary dust off his lapel. The two gestures combined to turn his slightly more in Jamie's direction, whom he had not yet seen. "You almost look like a real grownup, for once. Imagine my goofy brother looking handsome."

Jason laughed and looked away from her, smiling at his mother. Lois simply nodded, feeling her heart ache as he left Kala and hugged her just as tightly as Kala had only moments before. Her once-tiny little boy, the one that barely cried despite his being so sickly as a baby, was turning out to be his father's son in so many ways. _His teenage years are going to kill me_, she'd once said of him, and oh, was it true. Jason was rapidly growing into a handsome, charming young man of integrity and compassion…

…one who had just finally seen Jamie Sawyer as he pulled away from his mother's embrace. His poleaxed expression forced a snicker from Lois, though to her credit she tried to hide it. Jason's expression slowly changed to a smile, and several seconds after he'd first seen her, he finally managed to choke out one word. "Wow."

Kala burst into fits of giggles as he blushed. "'Wow'? Real smooth, Casanova," she managed to say. "Jeez, Jase!"

The rest could no longer rein in their laughter, and Jamie just hid her face in her hands for a moment, instantly reliving her earlier chagrin. "Thanks a lot, guys. _Thanks_. Really," the law student sighed before looking to the dark-haired boy with disbelief. "Jason, of all the things you could have said, did it _have_ to be 'wow'? Anything would've been better, even 'nice cleavage' or something like that. _Wow_."

Those blue eyes widened in very clear embarrassment, still all a-stumble where the older girl was concerned. He had known for years that he didn't stand a chance and that they were better as friends, but that didn't stop his heart from racing. "_Jamie_!" he yelped, turning an even brighter crimson.

Memories of more than a few moments that could have mirrored this, Lois spoke up with a chuckle. "Now, Jamie, give the boy a break. It's a thing with the Kent men," Lois scolded. "I raised him better than to just up and comment on cleavage or any other body part on a woman in public. He knows just what Mom thinks of that and how it's perceived." Then she grinned knowingly, "And besides, it could've been worse. Coulda been 'golly gee whiz' or something like that."

"_Mom_," Jason protested. His cheeks were becoming a very fetching shade of red. "I'm a nerd, but I'm not that much of a nerd."

Lois knew all too well how both of her children reacted to any mentions of personal history and felt the need to jerk their chains just a bit. Ticking up her left brow, she crossed her arms and shrugged. "Well, it's just history repeating itself, to be honest. Because, Jason, that is _exactly_ what your father said the first time he saw me in a slip," Lois said bluntly, prompting cries of "TMI!" from both twins and roars of laughter from her audience.

Dramatically wincing and hiding her face with her hands, Kala made disgusted noises as she frowned at her mother from between her fingers. "Okay, Mom, it worked. I'm going. I need to go bleach that mental image from my mind, and my adoring public needs to fawn over me," she said loftily. "Ciao, people." With a big grin that belied her words, Kala disappeared back into the crowd. Jason, meanwhile, was still shell-shocked and staring at his mother in horror. Had she really just said that out loud? That very moment, Jamie stepped forward and caught his hand. "C'mon, I'm sick of being harassed by the parents, and I know you have to be, too," she said, brooking no argument at all. "Let's dance."

As she dragged him away, with an expression on his face that suggested she'd suddenly started speaking a foreign language, the adults got one last laugh at Jason's expense.

…

_I am such a complete moron. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was my dumbest idea ever; it even beats the time I decided to mix __**all**__ the little vials in my chemistry set together. The best thing I could do is turn around and run back home right now_.

Too late; the cab was already pulling away. Elise sighed, looking back up at the doors of the Centennial Hotel again. In the end, she couldn't stop remembering that moment when she stumbled in the hall, and Jason caught her. She had looked directly into his eyes, and what she'd seen there wasn't what she expected. He'd been shocked, but she'd seen the instant of recognition, the warmth, and the barest beginning of a smile, perhaps. Jason had always looked at her so intently, making her feel like he saw much more of who she really was than other boys ever did…

Anyway, all such maudlin chick-lit crap aside, he hadn't looked like a guy who was over his ex and completely happy with his new girlfriend. Elise shoved that thought, and the stubborn spark of spiteful happiness it brought, aside. She was here for Kala and her other friends; Ashlyn and Joy and Kristin would all be here tonight, and Elise hadn't seen much of them since breaking up with Jason.

"Just breathe," she murmured to herself, and strode up to the doors.

* * *


	8. Almost Nearly Picture Perfect

**Geez, the holidays absolutely turned our household upside down this year! Let me apologize now for how late this chapter is. Things didn't exactly turn out the way we planned, but we'll have our Christmas fic out on Wednesday or Thursday and we do plan to have a chapter for you the weekend after New Years. Enjoy all and from the Roy-Joos household, a very Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah (which starts today!), and Happy Early Kwanzaa! May your new year be full of love and light!**

* * *

**_All eyes on me  
In the center of the ring,  
Just like a circus.  
When I crack that whip,  
Everybody gonna trip  
Just like a Circus._**

**_  
Don't stand there watching me,  
Follow me,  
Show me what you can do.  
Everybody let go,  
We can make the dancefloor  
Just like a circus._**

~ Britney Spears, **_Circus_**

**_

* * *

_**

In the utter disbelief of being forced onto the dance floor by the very girl he had mooned over for most of his preteen years, Jason had completely forgotten to wonder what was taking Giselle so long. If he were honest with himself, his crush on Jamie _had_ lost some of its intensity over the years. It was hard to love as madly, or as blindly, as an eight-year-old could. But the sight of her in this lovely dress had still made his stomach do slow barrel-rolls while everything he could possibly say vanished from his mind. Some things faded very slowly, and puppy love was apparently one of them.

Fortunately he'd gotten his mind together while they escaped their parents. Jason was a decent dancer, a fact which seemed to surprise Jamie once they got onto the dance floor. It also bothered her to look up at him, he could tell, and Jason grinned. "What's so funny?" Jamie demanded.

The mischief of the little boy he'd been gleamed in his eyes when he replied with a little grin. "Watching you freak out over how tall I am."

He had know that that little frustrated huff was coming, Jamie trying as hard as she could to look annoyed, but after a moment she gave in and smiled back at him. "Yeah, well, even if I get a crick in my neck from staring up at you, you're always gonna be the cute kid giving me pathetic looks, okay?"

Now it was Jason's turn to show his exasperation. Then again, he did have to admit that he'd been more than a little obvious to the older girl. "Hey now," he warned, trying not to blush. "None of that. You're not Padme and I'm not Anakin, all right?"

The law student tipped her head back and laughed. "Only you, Jason. Only you could make a movie reference like that. And no, I'm neither queen nor senator."

"And I'm not gonna grow up to be evil, because you're not gonna die in the third film," Jason added, leaving out the fact that Kala had occasionally claimed he was just as whiny as Anakin Skywalker. That got a smile out of her, and he smiled back.

…

Clark had hung back when Kala swept up to the group, overjoyed and excited. Not that he didn't share in her delight – she _was_ beautiful ­– but for the first time in her life, he had seen the woman Kala would become, not the girl she'd always been. That hint of the future served as a cruel reminder of everything he'd missed.

_I never saw them as toddlers, or infants,_ he thought. _Never lay beside Lois and listened to their hearts beating within her womb. I never saw the first steps or heard the first words, never got to take them out for their first trip to the park in the springtime. I've had the last ten years, and they were sweet, but the time of childhood inevitably comes to an end._ And for some reason, Kala growing up hurt him more than Jason. Maybe because he could see Jason as a slow, steady progression from shy, sickly child to strong, smiling boy to serious, smart teenager. The years of handsome, charming young man were right around the corner; were already here, as Jason smiled at Jamie Sawyer. Clark knew Jason's story, could see the past and the future in him, not least because it was his own story. _The son becomes the father…_

But Kala was something else. Part of it was because she was a girl – things were different from boys. In one summer she'd gone from little girl to teenager, a sudden change that unsettled Clark. It felt like one day she had been fascinated by dolls, and the next she was shopping for bras. Now he'd been forced to see her as a woman – and worse yet, he saw an echo of Lois' younger years in his daughter's fearless stride. _Time and tide wait for no man, not even for Superman,_ he thought, sweet-sorrowful regret running through him. The bossy little girl who'd leaped into his lap was gone into memory, and his daughter was a young woman now. Clark felt as though he should have hugged her more, should have played airplane with her more often, should have given more tickles and more Eskimo kisses. He had shown Kala as much love as he possibly could, and it would have to be enough, since there was no turning back time…

That phrase always struck a chill down his spine. Early in the formation of the JLA, Hal had taken Kal-El aside and murmured that the Green Lantern Corps had noticed a certain rip in the fabric of space-time. A place where someone, mad with grief and desperation, had flown _through_ time and changed something major to save the life of the woman he loved. Time had healed itself, but the scar remained, and Hal had quietly warned Kal-El against any future manipulations of space-time. He'd gotten away with it once … twice might literally mean the end of the world.

Clark had agreed, relieved. Though he'd contemplated turning back time when the twins were missing, some instinct had warned against it. And later, when Lois learned what he had done for her, she had also warned him against it. Vehemently. Lois Lane wasn't easy in the knowledge that she'd been _dead_, or that her nightmares of being crushed and suffocated in darkness actually had a source. They'd spoken of it once, in the depths of the night, and never again. Nor had Hal or anyone else from the JLA ever mentioned it to Kal-El beyond that once.

Such thoughts had no place at the twins' sixteenth birthday party, or so Clark told himself. Just because he saw time slipping through his fingers where Kala was concerned, watching his baby girl grow up with the same dismay any father experienced, was no reason to be so morbid. Shaking that mood off, Clark saw that Kala had whirled away from the adults and back into the mingled group of her friends and Jason's. For the moment he simply watched her, giving free rein to that peculiar feeling of mingled pride and grief. _So this is what it's like to be a father to a daughter,_ he thought. _To miss who she was even when my chest is about to burst from the wonder of who she's becoming._

When the ache in his throat became too much, he turned his attention to the dance floor. Jason and Jamie were dancing, and he'd just said something that made her laugh merrily. Clark smiled at them both; with Jason, his joy was unalloyed. The boy was everything a father could wish for in a son. Jason had none of Kala's moodiness. His temperament had always been much more stable, even if he was a little insecure in his adolescence. At an age when so many boys were a trial to their parents, Jason's only flaw seemed to be that he was trying too hard to grow up too fast.

Clark remembered an afternoon when the family was watching the evening news together before dinner. A story had come on about a family who'd been in a car wreck. Some Good Samaritan had arrived to offer assistance, a young man, the oldest daughter had said. Her little sister had been crying, although Clark was certain that the girl was actually _screaming_. He'd seen how very young she was in the news story, and knew that frightened little girls often shrieked in terror.

Anyway, the anonymous rescuer had taken one look at the dazed family in their crumpled car, and torn the back door off. "Just tore it," the father had said, still looking a little shocky around the eyes as he stared into the news camera. "Ripped it off like the top of a box of cereal." He went on to say that the young man had helped them all out of the vehicle and over to the side of the road, before the first ambulance arrived, and ruffled his daughter's hair before vanishing.

About that time, Clark had noticed Jason sinking down into his seat at the end of the couch. For a moment, he didn't understand, but then the story showed the accident location. It was barely a mile from Stalmaster, on the twins' route home. But Kala had stayed after school that day to practice. And the man on television hadn't seen a girl rescue his family.

"I'd sure like to find that young man and tell him thank you," the man said from the television, and Lois turned to stare at Jason. Clark had thought, _Thankfully he's tall, and he looks a little older than he is. Thankfully we have other meta-humans in the world now, and I'm not the only one around with super-strength._

Jason had just stared at his shoes while Lois and Kala stared at him like he was crazy. It had been Kala who finally said, "Good deed, Jase, but _damn_ you're dumb. Don't try to keep them from seeing your face, don't be a blur. You even ruffled the little girl's hair!"

"She was scared," the boy had mumbled, flushing crimson. And that told Clark everything he needed to know. They had stepped up the visits to the Fortress since then, with a subtle emphasis on the mission. Jason couldn't be who he was and not want to help. Lois had registered her displeasure; she felt like her little boy was being pushed into all of this far too early. But Clark disagreed. He'd seen the same hunger on Jason's face that looked back at him from the mirror. The boy could no more ignore someone's need than his father could. No one was pushing Jason to follow in his father's footsteps; it was all Clark could do to hold him back long enough to learn the skills he would need.

"Gets to you, doesn't it? Watching them grow up." At the man's voice, speaking so familiarly and with such perfect insight into his state of mind, Clark was almost certain he would see Pa standing beside him. He turned very slowly, and still his heart tried to superimpose the image of Jonathan Kent in front of the evidence of his eyes. Smiling sadly, Ben continued, "I've got two sons, myself, you know. They've put most of these gray hairs on my head, and more than once I'd've liked to pick them both up by the scruffs of their necks and bonked them together, hoping to knock some sense in. Drive you crazy, kids will."

Clark chuckled; oh, he could relate to that. Sometimes it sounded like he and Lois were raising a herd of very argumentative elephants, the way Jason and Kala would squabble.

"And break your heart," Ben continued. "When mine decided they were too old for bedtime stories, I went down to the living room in the dark and cried a little before I took myself to bed. Not too much, because I was proud of them, too. They're real good for that, breaking your heart and putting it back together twice as big, feels like, 'bout to bust your shirt-buttons beaming at them." He shook his head slowly, a wry smile still on his lips. "Kids."

"They're a handful," Clark agreed softly, and let his smile stand for all the things he couldn't quite articulate. Putting an arm around his stepfather's shoulders, he added, "C'mon, Ben, let's find out if the guests left us any food."

…

So far, so good. She'd had gotten through the lobby, but halted before the doors to the party itself as if frozen. Just the final reality of being in front of the doors to the Centennial Ballroom was like being slapped awake. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ kept echoing through her mind, although whether the stupidity lay in hesitating when she'd gotten this far, or in coming to the party at all, she couldn't tell.

Seconds ticked by as she struggled with her options and had almost come to terms with the possibility of retreat when she heard someone call her name. "Elise? Is it really you? Oh my gosh, what're _you_ doing here?!"

Turning guiltily, Elise saw the charming smile and blonde hair of the girl hurriedly crossing the lobby toward her, and relaxed. The question she'd called out wasn't spiteful in the least, just honest and delighted surprise. "Hey, Ashlyn," she said in a voice that only slightly betrayed her nervousness, greeting the other girl with a hug. "To be honest, I really don't know what I'm doing here."

"If I know a certain little 'blackbird', and I do, I know you're here because she missed you." She stepped back from Elise and grinned. "She's not the only one, you know. _I'm_ glad you made it." Then she glanced at the dress the other girl had worn, smiling to herself slightly. "I love that dress, too."

"Thanks," Elise replied distractedly, missing the knowing look on the little blonde gave her. Her stomach was currently the residence of a whole rabble of butterflies and the longer she stood here, the more they fluttered. "Look, I don't think this was my best idea. Ashlyn, I'm glad I got to see you, but I think I should leave."

The other girl gave her a disappointed frown. "What? But you can't leave now!" Ashlyn protested. "Elise, come on! You just got here!"

"I know, but…"

The smaller girl was having none of this, immediately cutting her off with, "You haven't seen Kala's dress yet, and you didn't come and talk to Ms. Lane – she misses you, you know, Mom said so. And _everybody's_ here – I'm sure they all want to see you, too. Stop being so silly."

Elise's eyes skittered away from her friend's, sneaking a glance at the ballroom's doors again. "Yeah, but there's at least two who _don't_ want to see me, and one of them is the birthday boy," she muttered, surprised at her own bitterness.

Ashlyn crossed her arms and just looked at her, perfectly emulating her own mother's no-nonsense expression. "If you think Jason doesn't miss you, Elise, I'm going to have to completely revise my opinion of you. I thought you were way smarter than that. Not to mention, the birthday _girl_ is one of your friends. That ought to be more important than your history with the birthday boy."

There was no missing the discomfort that comment caused. "I know," Elise said miserably. "I just…"

"Can't make up your mind?" Ashlyn supplied, taking charge as always as she took Elise's arm and started moving forward to push open the doors without the slightest anxiety. "Here, I'll make it up for you, that's how good a friend I am. C'mon, you're going to the party and you're going to have fun." Before Elise could protest, she'd been swept into the room on the tide of Ashlyn's enthusiasm, remembering all the times she and the twins had wound up following a similar cheerful whim. She'd met the blonde while dating Jason, and though she'd originally been wary of a potential romantic rival, Elise had quickly discovered that Ashlyn was just a good friend to both Jason and Kala. The four of them, plus Sebast and sometimes Kristin and a couple other friends, had often gone to movies together.

At first, Elise was nervous, and she kept to the edges of the party, ready to bolt if she saw Jason looking her way. But Ashlyn scolded her for trying to be a wallflower, and kept bringing her to groups of people who were overjoyed to see her, until Elise calmed down and acted like her old self. Eventually she and Ashlyn drifted apart, as Elise talked to some of her fellow Stalmaster students and Ashlyn went to talk to her parents.

Just as Elise turned to seek out some refreshments, the one person she _didn't_ want to see appeared at her side. "What are _you_ doing here?" Giselle snarled.

Elise felt her stomach plummet, all of her earlier fears returning. Giselle looked beautiful, even with an angry scowl on her face. And how could she possibly have expected to avoid her ex's new girlfriend at his birthday party? She'd never felt more like a fool, wishing she could just sink into the floor … or better yet, wishing she'd never trespassed here to begin with…

And, thank God, the cavalry arrived just in time. Elise knew that voice the moment before Kala stepped between them so quickly that Giselle was forced to step back or be shoved. Birthday or not, the warning look in those hazel eyes was as obvious as a stop sign. "Back off, Giselle. _I_ invited her. Do you have a _problem_ with that?"

"_Why_?" Giselle asked, glaring at Kala in annoyance and amazement.

The raven-haired girl smirked, putting a hand on her hip. "She's my date," she said airily. "You only have your sixteenth once. I figured I'd pull a Bruce Wayne and bring two, one of each. And I think it's safe to say I have the best-looking dates in the room, bar none." Kala's grin was so warm, Elise felt herself start to smile back despite the turmoil. Sebast, at her side, looked over her shoulder and gave Elise an encouraging little wave. Elise waved back, torn between nausea at the scene Giselle was trying to make, and laughter at Kala's insouciance.

The camaraderie between them just seemed to aggravate Giselle all the more. "You're just trying to mess things up between me and Jason."

"No, you idiot," Kala said, taking another step closer. "I promised Dopey that I would try to behave tonight, but you had to get in the middle of things. She's my _friend_. I've got news for you: this is _**Jason and Kala**_'s party. This evening is not about what _you_ like and what you _don't_. And before Elise dated Jason, she was his friend, too. That gives her more right to be here than you. Now, unless you would like me to break my promise to my brother further, I suggest you go find him and stop harassing _my_ guests."

The anger in Giselle's eyes was clear, but she didn't speak, stalking off presumably to find Jason. Kala grumbled under her breath in irritation, muttering something darkly that sounded a lot like _bitch_. Sebast squeezed her hand, making her look at him when she heaved a sigh. That done, she seemed to switch gears and turned to Elise, beaming. "Hey there, Elise! Welcome to the party!"

Always amused with Kala and her mercurial moods, Elise just shook her head. "Hi, Kala. I'm here. And that was _exactly_ what I didn't want to happen."

Kala shrugged flippantly, linking her arm through Elise's just as Sebast did the same to her. "Well, now that the worst is over, you can enjoy the rest of the party." She gave a devilish smile as she leaned her head against Elise's. "You have no idea how much I've missed you. Come on, my parents long for intelligent and informed conversation."

"I am _not_ speaking to your brother," Elise warned.

"Fine, fine, we'll let Lizard-boy go console his sniveling little rebound mistake. The thought had not even crossed my mind. He'll be beating himself up soon enough," Kala said dismissively. "In the meantime, you and I and my handsome arm-candy here will go make the rounds."

Those gray eyes were already scanning the room. "Where is Jason, anyway?" Elise said, quickly adding, "So I can avoid him."

Kala couldn't resist the smirk that that question brought on, and Sebast answered for her. "He was just dancing with Jamie Sawyer. I'm not sure where he is now. Probably off trying to recover."

"Jamie actually danced with him? He didn't faint?" Elise asked in wonder. Jason and his hopeless crush weren't exactly a secret to anyone who had spent any time with the family. After she had met Jamie for the first time, and watched her around Jason, any thought of jealous had disappeared.

"Yeah, I know," Kala said with a chuckle. "The end is nigh. Jason actually acted like a grownup around a pretty college girl."

"Yeah, after you conned her into it, devil girl. Hey, she looks great, and this is _me_ saying it," Sebast interjected, shrugging. "I'm proud of the boy. With his history with her, I'd say he held up pretty well."

That seemed to remind the birthday girl that she had yet to show off her eveningwear, it seemed, having been so involved with her brother's drama. "Oh! Elise, the dress! What do you think? Is Lana the greatest designer to ever walk the earth, or what?" She broke away from them both to twirl and make the dress flare, halting in a runway pose with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "C'mon, tell me. Do you like it?"

Now that Elise got a proper look at it, she grinned, catching some of Kala's enthusiasm. "I don't think you need me to tell you it's amazing," she said at last.

That prompted the biggest smile that Elise had seen from her since before the summer. And anything that made Kala that honestly happy was infectious. "You're right, I don't, not with that smile on your face. This birthday present _rocks_." Laughing merrily, she drew Elise and Sebast over to where the parents had gathered.

Any lingering doubts Elise had over whether she was welcome here vanished the moment the Whites and Lane-Kents saw her. For a bare instant, Ms. Lane looked at her with more than a little shock, but then she broke into such a broad grin that Elise felt ashamed of herself for avoiding Jason.

Still, the way everyone glanced around for Jason or Giselle was a tiny dagger in Elise's heart. Lana was the first to hug her, stepping back from it with a warm smile. "I'm glad you made it, dear," she said.

The rest of the greetings and compliments flowed easily after that, Lois hugging her last. Grinning at her, it was Jason and Kala's mom who finally made her laugh by sighing, "The rocket scientist is back amongst us. Oh thank _God_, some sanity returns."

…

Across the ballroom, the song had ended, and Jason and Jamie stepped off the dance floor. He let go of her hand only to see someone else catch it up quickly, and he was surprised to feel glad for her instead of the pang of jealousy he expected. It was just as well, because he turned around to see Giselle coming through the crowd with an angry scowl marring her lovely face.

He dodged compliments to get to her quicker, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?"

"Your ex is here," Giselle said, and Jason saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "Kala brought her. I can't _believe_ her. Jason…"

"Hey," Jason interrupted, cupping her perfect face in his hands and gently wiping the tears away before they could trickle far. "Giselle, it doesn't matter. It doesn't. I'm here with _you_, remember? She's the one who ought to be crying."

She sniffled, staring up at him earnestly. "You're sure?"

"She _left_ me," Jason said. "And she didn't even have the decency to tell me the truth. I found out later she was seeing some guy in New Zealand. Why on earth would I possibly want to talk to her?"

"Most guys would," Giselle said. "Most guys would have to get a girl like her back just to prove they were better."

"I'm not most guys," Jason said. "And I'm not the least bit interested in anyone who's not going to be honest with me."

At that, her tears seemed to stop, and Giselle flung her arms around him. Jason hugged her back, gently, and heard her whisper, "You're the best guy I ever met."

…

A slow song came on – Kala and Jason had split the music fairly evenly between their tastes and the adults' – and Lois felt a warm hand at her elbow. "May I have this dance?" Clark murmured in her ear.

She turned to him, a slow, warm smile lighting her eyes in response to his low tone, the husky murmur only she had heard him use. Another man's face had been in her mind's eye as she watched the teens mingling: the investor who'd arrived early for the meeting earlier this week, and who been visiting every few days, trying to learn about the newspaper business. His name was Erik Eastlake, recent inheritor of Andrew Eastlake's stock in the _Daily Planet_, and he was some eight or nine years Lois' junior. Young enough that his enthusiasm and endless questions were sort of charming, instead of a pure annoyance. He was handsome enough, though no man compared to Kal-El as Lois knew him.

Eastlake's boyish smile vanished from Lois' thoughts the moment she saw her husband's azure eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. She had been idly contemplating what the younger man would've thought of this dress; Eastlake was a flirt, and Lois accepted his compliments with a chuckle, a veteran of the dating game amused by the efforts of a dedicated amateur. But the warmth in Clark's eyes left no doubt what _he_ thought of it, nor what he was thinking of now, and Lois let him lead her out to the dance floor with untarnished delight.

They swayed to the music, Lois resting her cheek against Clark's chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. He kissed the top of her head, softly, and they were in perfect sync again. No words needed or even wanted between them, just moving in harmony to the music and each other. Lois closed her eyes in bliss, trusting him to guide her.

…

Jason danced several songs with Giselle, and she stayed glued to his side for most of the night. He lost her in the crowd again after cutting the cake, momentarily distracted by the need to glare at his twin for her presumptuousness. Unfortunately, the opening of the gifts prevented him from _saying_ anything to Kala. The last time he'd seen Giselle had been right after opening her present. She'd given him tickets to the symphony, a very sophisticated gift that had impressed the grownups. Luckily they hadn't heard her whisper in his ear, "Maybe we'll make an evening of it," with that impish gleam in her eyes.

She'd disappeared shortly after, while Jason opened the camera from Uncle Jimmy, and he thought she was probably mingling with the other Stalmaster students. That was fine with Jason; he had so many people to thank that he couldn't have paid her much attention, anyway. Eventually he found himself chatting with his cousins Nora and Joanna, and Kala's friends Melissa and Angie.

And then all four girls looked past him and smiled in unison. "Aww, that's so sweet," Angie said, even as Nora and Joanna guiltily turned their attention back to Jason.

They were too late. He was already turning to see what had delighted them, but the sight had a much different effect on him. Jason had been aware of Elise all night, usually catching a glimpse of her either at Kala's side or lurking with the grownups. He hadn't spoken to her, nor did he intend to. But what had put those adorable smiles on all four girls' faces was Elise finally taking to the dance floor – with Kristen. The little redhead was clearly enjoying this departure from curfew, laughing like a loon as Elise spun her around, and nearby Bryan and Michelle were dancing with all the grace and coordination of a couple of puppies romping.

It _was_ cute, but this final betrayal – even his baby sister seemed to be demonstrating her preference for Elise over Giselle – provoked Jason to actually do what he'd only been thinking of doing all night. Making polite excuses to the girls, he stalked off to confront Kala.

He found her, of course, hanging out with _his_ friends. And it seemed Kala had heard Nathan's teasing remark about Caleb liking her, because the guitarist was gazing at her with the hypnotized expression Jason was all too used to seeing on the faces of guys who talked to his sister. When she was in a taunting mood, she could make the seniors stutter.

Jason caught her elbow and muttered, "I need to talk to you. _Right now_." She planted her feet, but he simply dragged her away, seething, while Nathan and Caleb and Daniel just stared in amazement.

"Sorry, Caleb," Kala called sweetly. "Jason doesn't like it when I talk to other boys." She gave the most innocent shrug as her brother pulled her out into the hallway.

Jason rounded on her. "Just what the heck did you think you were doing, inviting Elise to the party?" he snapped.

Kala never flinched, never backed down – it was one of those things she seemed almost incapable of doing. Instead she stepped forward, into Jason's personal space. "Excuse me? This is _my_ party too, and I invited _my_ friends."

"Since when is she your friend?" The moment the words left his mouth, Jason knew he'd been too hasty; both of them had known Elise for a few months before he had started dating her. Actually, Kala had been friends with her first.

The deadly glare he received told him Kala wasn't going to let it go, either. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in perfect echo of Lois. "I see the Pink Princess of Doom really _is_ sucking the brains right out of your face. If you recall, _Jason Garen_, Elise was friends with _both_ of us before you got the brilliant idea to date her. The only smart thing you've done in the last couple years, by the way, thanks for screwing it up."

"She _left_ me," Jason snapped, forgetting for a moment that he was already in dangerous territory. "No, wait, she didn't really leave me. She said we should separate for the summer since she was going to be in New Zealand, and then I found out all about her hot summer boyfriend after she came back. She didn't even have the decency to tell me about the Kiwi herself!"

Kala covered her face with an aggravated sigh. "Jason, tell me something, did she _ever_ say anything to you about this supposed guy? I mean, ever? Did you even get a _name_? If it was such a great epic summer thing, I'm sure she's only mentioned his name to a million people, right?"

Perplexed, Jason could only shake his head. Why would he want to know more about Elise's infidelity? Besides, they hadn't spoken until that moment in the hallway earlier this week.

Kala pressed onward, looking at him as if he were a completely brainless elementary-school kid. "Did you ever confront her about it at all, or did you just run around yelping about how she hurt you until you found something cute and fluff-brained to take your mind off it?"

"No, I never confronted her," Jason said, deeply confused now. He'd meant to be the one doing the yelling and accusing here…

His sister rolled her eyes, tipping her head back as if appealing to a higher authority. "You see? This is what happens when you know _nothing_ about girls and you go and propose to one at the ripe old age of _fifteen_. _Jason_. Please, grow a brain. Someday."

"What're you _talking_ about?" he exclaimed, his head aching. "Kala, you brought my ex to my party! Why are _you_ mad at _me_?!"

"Because sometimes _you_ have all the understanding of a wad of gum!" she snapped back. "Especially when the answers are right in front of you!"

When Jason could only stare at her, Kala caught his face between her hands and glared at him, her hazel eyes wild with frustration. "Sometimes I forget how brilliant you are," she said, shaking his head back and forth. "This is one of them." After staring into his eyes for a moment as if she could will comprehension into him, she sighed and finally relented. "It's a good thing I love you, Dopey."

On that note, she turned and walked away, leaving Jason to wonder what had just happened.

…

Richard got himself a glass of punch, the fast beat of the last song still leaping in his pulse. The fast tempo had called Lois out on the dance floor, and he had gone with her – Clark Kent didn't have a reputation as the kind of guy who could keep up with Lois Lane at anything faster than a waltz, so Richard stood in for him. The friends and family didn't bat an eyelash, knowing perfectly well that sometimes a dance was just a dance.

Not everyone was of that impression, however. Cat's boyfriend, Andrew, was getting her another glass of punch, and he looked askance at Richard. "You've got a lot of balls, dancing with your ex right under your wife's nose," he said. "I can't believe she lets you get away with it."

Richard stared at him for a moment, thinking, _You struck out again, Cat. I give this one two weeks, tops._ "For your information, _Andy_, the reason Lana doesn't mind is because I'm dancing with Lois in _front_ of her. If I was going behind her back, she might be worried. But since Lois and Lana are _friends_ – and since Lois' husband happens to be a damn good friend of _mine_ – I think you can take your attitude and shove it."

Cat arrived just then, and Richard greeted her flatteringly, all the while planning to share this latest incident with her as soon as possible. He even beamed at Andrew, flaunting his friendship with Cat – she had always liked him, even when Tobie had been calling him Dick at every opportunity – and enjoying making the younger man uncomfortable. _Make that one week, once I talk to her. You aren't good enough, buddy._

…

The party seemed to be winding down when Kala climbed atop a chair and rapped a fork against a glass, producing a high-pitched chime that quickly got everyone's attention. "First, Jason and I would like to thank everyone for coming to our birthday party," she said, her voice carrying clearly to the back of the room.

Jason stood beside the chair, and he spoke next. "It's an honor to have so many of our friends and family here to celebrate this day with us." The timing of this speech was more important than figuring out what Kala had meant, or how she'd managed to go from accused to accuser. Right now, he just wanted to reveal the final surprise.

Kala picked up smoothly where he left off. "But there's one person who deserves our gratitude more than any other. Without her, none of this would be possible."

"A little over sixteen years ago," Jason continued, "she made a very difficult choice, and embarked on a journey for which she was entirely unprepared. In spite of that unexpectedness, she did the best she could, always worrying that it wasn't good enough."

"And in spite of the fact that she'd always been self-sufficient, she accepted the advice and the help of her family and friends," Kala said. "It wasn't easy – it was _never_ easy – but for sixteen years she put all of her heart and mind and will into being the best at something she'd never even imagined becoming."

Both twins were silent for a moment, looking across at Lois, who had just realized they were talking about her. "And you succeeded, Mom," Jason said softly.

"You did," Kala affirmed. "You were always the greatest mother, and you always will be."

Hearing those words, particularly from the child with whom she had the most strife, brought tears to Lois' eyes. Her hand covering her mouth to stifle a sob, the reporter let her son come over and lead her out of the crowd. Kala hopped down from the chair with the kind of casual grace adults envied in teens, and beamed at her mother. "Most people _receive_ presents on their birthday," she said, those familiar hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. "But Jason and I have never been ordinary. And without you, Mom, we wouldn't _have_ a birthday to celebrate. So this year, we got you a gift."

Jason took the small velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, holding it out to Lois ceremoniously. "Smoky topaz, our birthstone," he said, as his mother stared wordlessly at the silver locket with its gemstone. "Good pictures of us both already in it – well, I look okay, Kala looks like Morticia Addams as usual."

The girl elbowed her brother, cutting him a swift glare. "_Anyway_, we had a hard time keeping you and Dad from finding out," she said, grinning at Lois. "Do you like it?" There was a hint of worry in the question; Lois hadn't spoken yet, her eyes flickering between the faces of her children and the locket nestled in white satin.

As the crowd watched, silently, Lois took the necklace from its box. The stone had looked dark until she lifted it, revealing gold and amber highlights flickering within. Lois opened the locket and caught her breath; she had been expecting a picture of each twin, probably recent. What she saw on the left was one of the twins' early pictures, taken shortly after Kala's eyes had changed color and while Jason's hair was still fair and baby-fine. In the right half of the locket was a recent photo she'd never seen before, obviously taken just for this purpose. Though the picture was cropped down to just their faces, Lois could guess that Jason had been seated, Kala standing behind his chair with her chin against his temple and her hair falling onto his shoulder.

There was a long, silent pause as Lois stared at the pictures with her free hand rising to her mouth, so overwhelmed that she couldn't even speak. So much had been going on within the family these last months, so much grief and frustration and so many missed signals, that this reminder of the bond between them brought tears to her eyes. It was years since it had been just the three Lanes against the world and all comers. Sometimes she wondered if either of the twins could remember back that far and a part of her wished they didn't. Unable to stop herself, Lois felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she continued to glance from one picture to the other.

Ever the awkward parent, she'd never wanted them to remember a moment when they hadn't been loved enough and both of the men in their lives had been extraordinary in showing that. But that didn't mean that she didn't want them to know just how much she had always loved them, even if life got in the way. As long as they lived, they would always be her little babies, so tiny and fragile that they had spent time in the NICU. Watching them in the wee hours of the morning in those first few months, so frightened to lose either of them, awake from dreams of the twins not being there. Scared that someone would find out whose they were and taking them, of their little bodies just not being strong enough to fight off any sudden illness, and then later that she'd feed them the wrong thing. It had been difficult, but they had made it through.

Both Kal-El and Richard could do amazing things, were so much larger than life, but she had been there and held the twins when neither man had ever laid eyes on them. And that they did remember, and it did matter even now that they were almost grown, touched her deeper than anything had ever before. It was worth it; every single instant of their childhood was worth it to have the two of them here and with her now, as beautiful and healthy and strong as they were. She wasn't even trying to hide the tears trailing down her cheeks when she looked up at Jason and Kala, her smile bright and almost shy as she held her arms out for them both.

* * *


	9. A Gathering Together of Near and Dear

* * *

Shortly before dawn on the morning of Thanksgiving, Lana poured the first cup of coffee of the day and sweetened it to her taste. She'd been awake almost an hour, already showered and dressed and thinking about the day ahead. Her morning followed a certain predictable routine no matter where she was, and it comforted her with a sense of familiarity even when she woke up in Paris or Milan.

This morning, however, she was at home in Metropolis, and as usual, she was the first one awake. When Richard tumbled out of bed he would find his shaving kit laid out, toothpaste already on his toothbrush, coffee brewed, and breakfast cooking. Small enough luxuries, but he appreciated those little gestures so very much. On the rare occasion that he woke up before Lana, he would show his gratitude extravagantly, bringing her breakfast in bed with a flower on the tray.

Lana smiled to herself; she enjoyed spoiling Richard, even if a few of her friends had raised their feminist eyebrows at the toothpaste thing. When she explained that it was to circumvent his habit of leaving the cap off, they had all laughed. In truth, it was more about having him wake up every morning to the certain knowledge that he was loved and cherished. Richard certainly reminded Lana that he felt the same about her just as frequently.

The penthouse was silent except for the soft padding of Dusty's paws as the beagle trotted into the kitchen. He yawned, showing an extraordinary length of pink tongue, and then looked up at his mistress hopefully. "You already had your constitutional and your kibble," she informed him softly, careful not to use the words 'walk' or 'breakfast', as both would excite the hound all over again. Once, as a puppy, he'd managed to get fed three times in a morning by waking his owners up individually with pitiful whines, and he was still trying to pull off the same trick years later. Lana rumpled his ears before pouring a second cup of coffee and walking out onto the terrace.

She had a spacious apartment, with an office for herself and two spare bedrooms, one of which was presently occupied by her parents, who had flown into Metropolis for Thanksgiving. Out here on the terrace, she had a covered pool and a gorgeous view of the river and the skyline. Setting the second cup of coffee down on the parapet, Lana sipped her own as she watched the sky lighten in the east.

The sun's first rays gleamed molten on the horizon when Lana's long hair swirled in a sudden breeze. She smiled, and turned to see a familiar visitor hovering in midair just off the terrace. "Good morning, Clark," Lana said.

"Morning," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. Most mornings he dropped by for coffee on his way home; if he had been running late, Lana would've poured a third cup into a travel mug for him to take home to Lois. Conversation at this hour was usually light, if they even spoke; these days Clark and Lana shared a lot of comfortable silences.

But something about Clark was off this morning; his shoulders more tense, his voice more clipped, and Lana looked at him for a long moment before asking, "Is everything all right?"

The way Clark sighed heavily told her more than words could. "No, as a matter of fact. I just got in the middle of a gang war down in the capitol. On Thanksgiving, of all days! Both sides had armor-piercing rounds and fully automatic weapons; even the riot police would've been in danger. So I handled it."

Lana nodded. "You do tend to make quite an impression when bullets go bouncing off your chest," she commented with a small smile. "But that's nothing new. What's bothering you, Clark?"

"I didn't get to give you the punch line," he replied, his solemn appearance never changing. "The oldest person there, beside me and the police, was nineteen." At her startled gasp, he continued, "I saw an eleven year old boy arrested for possession of an assault rifle and attempted murder, Lana. And the sickening thing is, just like you said, _it's nothing new_. If it's not kids in gangs in the inner city, it's kids in the suburbs shooting up schools. When you and I were that age, we would've shaken in our shoes if a police officer so much as scolded us. One of those kids tried to _bite_ a cop. What's the world coming to?"

Anguish soured that rich voice, and Lana caught his arm, looking at him intently. "Clark. You're only seeing the worst of the world, not the best. Not even the average. You can't take your morning run as a baseline for the whole world."

"No, but I've been doing this for so long, and all I see is more violence, more grief, more callousness," he replied stormily. His brows furrowed in exasperated aggravation. "It never ends!"

"It never will," she told him, her tone gentle. "Not in this life. Not in this world. All you can do is help as much as you can, and live your own life with dignity and purpose."

The troubled expression never wavered. "I was supposed to do something about all this," Clark muttered, his voice terse. "I'm supposed to be putting a stop to this."

"How?" Lana countered without fire. "By taking all the gang members and dropping them on an island somewhere? By personally standing in front of every bullet fired in this entire country? Clark, you're only one person. And I don't care what your father tells you, you're not a god. Surely Lois has been reminding you of that fact?"

The flicker she saw go over his face was all too reminiscent of an embarrassed six-year-old. Clark suddenly fell silent, and Lana leaned back, crossing her arms. "All right then. _When_ did you stop talking to your wife about things like this?"

"Lois has so much on her mind…" Lana just gave him a raised-eyebrow look, and he sighed. "Lana, I don't want to burden her with all of this."

"But you don't mind burdening me," she stated flatly.

"Well, when you put it like _that_…"

"Clark, I have no problem taking five or ten minutes out of my day to talk to you," Lana said lightly. "You are my oldest friend, and there's very little in my life of equal importance. I find it hard to believe that Lois, loving you as much as she does, wouldn't have time for you, too. It isn't a _burden_, you silly man. It's what spouses are supposed to do for each other."

He smiled at that, butit didn't last for long. "It's not that easy, Lana. You and Richard, you got your rough times out of the way early, and it's been clear sailing ever since. Lois and I, well, with my job and my mission and her job and the kids…"

"That only proves you need each other even more," Lana pointed out. "And I beg to differ on the 'clear sailing' thing. Richard and I do disagree."

"Yes, but you don't hold a grudge for weeks, or pretend everything's okay when it's not."

To his surprise, Lana laughed. "Are you kidding? I am a _champion_ grudge-holder, Clark. I could tell you things _Brad_ did to annoy me all the way back in high school! I'm still working on that. And don't think the jealousy thing is completely cleared up, either. I'm not perfect – I'm fairly sure I could drive you crazy in a very short time if you had to live with me."

"I never said you were," Clark replied , then added, "and somehow you managed to make me say something uncomplimentary again. Lana, I love Lois. You know that. But…"

"Does she?" Lana interrupted.

"No, I was going to say…"

Before he could finish the statement, the redhead cut him off again. "You were going to say that loving her has never been easy, or words to that effect. And yes, I know. She's not an easy person to be around, Clark – she's a very volatile mix of confidence and insecurity. It's too easy to get fooled into believing she's stronger or weaker than she actually is, and she _will_ take offense if you misjudge her. What I'm asking you is, does _she_ know you love her that much?"

The mere thought that it could be a possibility seemed to startle him. For a moment, he just look at her. "I hope so," Clark finally said slowly. "I tell her a dozen times a day. And I bring her coffee when she's half-asleep and surly, which is practically risking my life." He smiled a little, trying for levity, but Lana was having none of it.

"How is she to know you love her if you don't confide in her like you used to? Clark, Lois _does_ like to be needed. You can lean on her, you know. You might _think_ she's got too much on her plate right now, but I think it would do you both good if you shared some of this with her. Didn't you used to always ask her for advice back before you two got involved?"

"Well, yes…" Clark looked a little perplexed, seeing his actions from a new perspective. He'd been trying to spare Lois the trouble of dealing with his problems when she had so many of her own, but maybe Lana was right. Maybe it was no kindness to her for him to keep everything to himself.

"So just because you married her, all of a sudden her support isn't valid? Clark, forgive me, but didn't keeping secrets from her get you in enough trouble all those years ago?" That stung, and Clark couldn't help the way he winced. With a sigh, Lana caught his hand and squeezed it. "I'm not chasing you off, Clark. I'll always be here for you when you need me. But I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't tell you that distance in any relationship is a very bad thing, and distancing yourself from your wife – particularly when we're talking about you and Lois – is the worst thing you can do."

"You're right," he sighed, "as usual. Lana, what would I do without you?"

"Make your own coffee," she chided kindly. "And one more thing."

"What's that?"

"When you do get home, go look in on Jason and Kala. There are a lot of children in the world who are going down the wrong road in life, but the twins aren't among them. When it seems like you aren't doing enough to save the world, remember your twins. You can't save everyone, but you're an inspiration to so many, and you have children who we all know will follow in your footsteps."

"That's a whole other issue," he warned with a heartfelt sigh. "Don't get me started about how Father is so eager to get Jason into a uniform."

"It doesn't matter whether they grow up to be members of the League or not," Lana told him with a shrug. "What matters is that your efforts helped shape them, and they will help shape the world after you. It will never be perfect, but they and millions of other people you inspired will keep trying to make it better. Will you try to remember that?"

The smile he gave her then spoke clearly of his gratitude. "Thank you, Lana," he said humbly. "You'd make a great therapist, you know that?"

"You're welcome," was Lana's ready reply. "And if I was a therapist, I'd charge you for this. Now shoo." With a laugh, she teasingly waved a hand at him. "You're not the only man whose coffee I make."

They both laughed now, Clark's easy smile having returned. "Touché," he replied, and drained the last of his coffee before handing the mug back to her. The next instant, he was gone, and Lana went inside to the task of waking the household and getting them ready for the big dinner later today.

…

This was just starting to get ridiculous. It was bad enough to be up here on a holiday, but the fact that everyone else left about an hour and a half ago and damn Truman was taking a million and a half years to do a final polish on a 2,000-word story was seriously making her mood linger right around DEFCON. The fact that he was one of the oldies just made it all the more irritating. "Alright, let me make this clear. I am _leaving_ in twenty minutes, Gil, whether or not we have a front page," Lois shouted across the bullpen. "It doesn't have to be deathless prose, just pull your head out of your ass and finishing writing the article! It's Thanksgiving, half the people reading tomorrow will be stoned on turkey leftovers anyway." She turned on her heel and stalked into her office, annoyed at working on the holiday but glad she'd gotten her baking done last night.

Just as she had settled back into her desk chair and started on her sixth game of Cubis 2, she heard a tap on the glass door. Glancing up, the assistant editor saw that she wouldn't be able to just sit down and stew comfortably until it was time to leave, however. Most of the investors had been through in a two week period, assured of what their money was financing and gone, but Erik Eastlake now carried more shares than anyone in the company beyond Perry, his brother Theo, and an older gentleman from Bangkok. The kid was fascinated with the paper, he claimed, and wanted to understand exactly how the newspaper game was played, which was cute in a way. Just not at 3:00 pm on a holiday. Knowing that she had to play nice, Lois suppressed a sigh and forced herself to smile cheerfully. "Well, what a surprise."

"May I come in?"

_No, I want to go the hell __**home**__. I should have been there an hour ago and I'm pretty sure everyone at home is wondering what the __**hell**__ is going on_, every cell in her body screamed. But she just nodded pleasantly and replied, "Of course, Mr. Eastlake. What can I help you with?"

There was a flash of a handsome smile when he entered. "Please, it's Erik," he said affably, sitting as she offered the chair in front of her desk. "I'm sorry to intrude, but it occurred to me to wonder how the paper gets published on holidays. I came by to see how it's done."

Lois' smile was a bit frayed; Eastlake was underfoot quite a bit lately, and he always came to _her_ with his questions. Oh, he was never anything but utterly charming, and if pressed she would admit that part of her enjoyed the way he trusted absolutely in her knowledge and competence, but he was worse than some of the copyboys who aspired to reporter status. "The main trick, Mr. Eastlake, is that we do most everything ahead of time," she replied. For an instant it occurred to her to make the comparison to her own holiday baking, and then she suppressed it with a shudder. _Getting too domestic in your old age, Lane,_ she thought, and continued aloud, "There's only a skeleton crew on hand to cover the important stories of the day, and of course the press room will be here tonight to print. But all of the daily columnists and most of the special-interest sections of the paper were done yesterday, if not by Tuesday night." She frowned out the window at Gil's back, that left brow ticking up slightly, "Well, all except for Truman, anyway."

As always, he seemed honestly interested in what she had to say. "Really? I never realized. Fascinating," he said, before looking at her thoughtfully. "And the Editor in Chief customarily takes holidays off?"

Lois brought her narrowed eyes up to meet his questioning ones. He had been doing well with her so far, but now he was skirting dangerously close to making the single most infuriating assumption of all, the one _everybody_ seemed to make these days: that Perry was little more than a figurehead, and Lois ran the paper. Biting back a curt correction to his supposition, she managed to maintain her calm and genial mask. "Actually, since we're running with a reduced staff, Mr. White entrusted me to keep them in line for a day," she replied smoothly, a distinct chill on the words. "The Chief, of course, expects his employees to maintain his standards even when he's not here."

Seeming to realize he had stepped wrong, the man nodded quickly. "Of course. I understand that he has a young son, doesn't he?" Eastlake asked.

The cards were in his hands. How he played this was now up to him. "Yes, he does. Bryan is eight." Lois kept her tone even, watching his reaction carefully.

"Perfectly reasonable," Eastlake said with a smile. _Smart man_. _You and I have been getting along just fine until that little slip. Just keep thinking that way, leave the Chief alone, and we'll be fine._ "And of course you have things well in hand for when he returns tomorrow."

That earned him a smile of acknowledgement from the dark-haired woman. _And of course that's his way of apologizing for the slip. _ "He expects no less of me," Lois said, adding to herself, _and no more, thank God._

"I'm sure Mr. White is grateful to have an assistant like you looking after his interests," Eastlake replied swiftly, and Lois just watched him, wondering what she had on and off for a little while. Was all of this flattery just an attempt to butter up the _Planet's_ heir apparent?

Any further conversation was interrupted by Gil throwing open the office door. "It's done, Lane" he said, looking more than a little harassed when Lois smirked at him, "_and_ emailed. Hit the word count exactly on the head."

"Hallelujah," Lois said with a sigh, getting out of her chair. Once on her feet, she turned to the younger man with an apologetic smile. "Well, Mr. Eastlake, we're going to finish the front page and go home. It should only be a few more minutes…" She let the sentence dangle, not wanting to dismiss him, but unwilling to invite him to watch her block out the front page.

God bless the man, he caught the drift. "Thank you, but I'll head home myself," he said, rising and offering his hand. "Always a pleasure to speak with you."

"The same," Lois replied, shaking his hand briskly. Usually she smiled at him, perhaps even flirtatiously, but she resented the comments about Perry. Eastlake was wise enough to accept her curtness and take himself out.

As Gil fell in step with her on her way out of the office, he made an odd little scoffing noise. _Give me a break; don't you start. I've had enough out of you today,_ she thought with more than a little annoyance. "What? Sorry, Gil, what did you say?" Lois asked, looking at him a little too innocently.

"Nothing," he replied, then added under his breath, "who does he think he's kidding, anyway?"

For once, Lois left it alone. She had the feeling she wouldn't like exploring that little comment, anyway.

…

An hour later, she was blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes as she got out of the car at Lucy's house. The driveway was packed; Ron had moved their van to allow their guests to park closer to the house in deference to the weather. The day was currently mild and breezy, but later in the evening temperatures were expected to drop, and more snow was forecasted. Lois sighed as the rest of her family unfolded themselves from her car. It was probably better for the Lane-Kents to walk to the end of the drive than for the parents to attempt it. At least Martha and Ben were staying with the Troupes; Clark was overly concerned about his mother ever since she'd broken her hip, and he would be positively frantic over the icy walk.

Jason stood up and stretched, then leaned back in to open Bagel's carrier. Her black nose had been working steadily since they arrived, and she knew whose house they'd arrived at. Her tail beat against the carrier's sides and she whined urgently, springing out into Jason's arms. "Whoa!" he said, struggling to hold her. "Bagel, _calm down!_ You are not a _puppy_ any more; why do you act this wacky?"

The little dog's forefeet waved in the air as she tried to escape his grasp, barking loudly. From the other side of the house came a chorus of barking, shortly followed by the other dogs tearing up to the fence. "Fine, here you go," Jason groused, leaning over the fence and dropping Bagel gently. She landed running and dashed up to her cousin Dusty, her mother Mathilda, and the Troupe's dog Marny, all of whom greeted her with enthusiastic wagging and licking. The next instant, the four dogs were tearing off through the yard in a friendly game of chase.

Kala snorted with amusement, slipping on a pair of Lennon sunglasses against the bright day. "Hah, I knew it! Aw, look, Jason. Just like all other women, the dogs are fleeing your presence."

He just rolled his eyes before retorting, "You're only walking the ten feet to the door, Kal. Why the shades?"

"Practicing my rock-star look," his sister replied flippantly.

Lois turned around and leveled a glare at them. _Just an hour of peace. Is an hour too much to ask on a holiday?_ "Can it, both of you," she sighed, adjusting the camera bag on her shoulder. "I've been up since the butt crack of dawn, and I even went into the office today. We _will_ have a good holiday, even if I have to slap duct tape over both your mouths and lock you in the trunk. Got it?"

"Yes, Mother," the twins chorused. Kala waited until Lois had taken several steps away before hissing under her breath in Kryptonese, "You would need to catch me first."

"Kala." Clark spoke in _that_ voice, and even carrying three pies, a tray of cookies, and some containers for leftovers, he managed to look imposing. One word and the look was enough; Kala subsided, abashed, and moved to help her father carry the pies. Jason stepped up to get the cookies, and Lois led the way to the door unencumbered.

"Lois!" Lucy called out as she opened the door. She gathered her sister into a hug, then distributed hugs and kisses among Clark and the twins while bustling them inside.

Lois had barely made it five steps up the hall before Perry stepped forward and caught her shoulders. "Hello, Lois," he greeted her, and his smile was already strained.

"Hey, old man," Lois replied, giving him the brief hug they always shared away from the office. Once they pulled back and acting like it didn't happen, again as always, she tilted her head to look at the Chief worriedly. "Yeah, that doesn't look good. What's going on?"

With only the briefest glance over his shoulder, the older man lowered his voice to whisper, "My goddamn sister-in-law, that's what. _Why_ did I agree to let her stay with us?"

The mere mention of the woman and her presence here was enough to make Lois close her eyes and sigh. She wasn't precisely over the moon at Sylvia White's being here, but it had meant a lot to Richard… "Mostly because you miss Theo," Lois said, trying to sound consoling while Clark and the twins filed past with hugs and brief greetings to Perry that were answered distractedly. "Perry, she's a first-class pain in the ass, but what can we do? Thank God we love Richard…"

Kala had just stepped into the living room, catching sight of her Uncle Ron and beaming happily at him. Much closer, she heard a sound that would once have driven her to terrified tears: the sharp, high-pitched yapping of a very small dog. _Two_ very small dogs, Yorkshire terrier puppies, were now racing toward her feet in a mad flutter of paws and hair and gleaming white teeth. It was just as well that Jason caught her arm and stepped in front of her; she'd been squaring up to punt the first one across the room before realizing that they looked a lot less intimidating from her current height. "Oh, look, the sweetums want to say hello," Sylvia crooned, and the twins stared at her.

Just hearing the sound of her voice had been enough. Now Lois had seen this whole exchange, and she looked at Perry, outraged. It had been more than ten years since the incident in Fort Lauderdale, but time had not lessened a mother's fury. "It's not bad enough that she's here; she had to bring two of those little beasts _with her_? What the…?"

He only nodded and whispered, "One of 'em ate my damn shoe last night. Down to the laces. But no, the puppies are too little to be left in a kennel on vacation, what if they got sick, and besides they'll pine for their mama." His voice had trailed into a falsetto imitation of Sylvia at the end, and the gleam in his eyes looked to Lois like incipient madness.

But before any of her outrage could be made clear, someone else's opinion prevailed. "Puppies!" Michelle called, and the two terriers wheeled away from Kala's boots and rushed back to where she was sitting on the floor. Jason and Kala both tensed to leap, but the dogs only licked Michelle's face; perhaps they hadn't yet grown into their full, evil potential.

And then Lois got a good look at Sylvia, and felt her temperature start to rise. _It's not her fault,_ she told herself sternly. _How could she know?_ Regardless, the woman was sitting in Ella's chair, and it was enough to make Lois want to grab her by the hair and dump her out of it.

Elinore Lane had spent the last three years living with Ron and Lucy. Ron had sweet-talked her into it, never once mentioning the fact that older women who lived alone were vulnerable to all sorts of things. His careful comments had been all about how much Lucy would appreciate having her there, how the grandchildren would adore the arrangement, and how he himself would feel safer knowing there was another set of eyes looking after his active, rambunctious youngest. What clinched the argument was his remark that he could think of nothing better than having _two _beautiful women living in his home. Ella had gracefully accepted the compliment and the offer, and moved in with them, renting out her own home in anticipation of the day when one of the grandchildren would like to have it. But things had not gone entirely to plan…

Lois had to look away to blink back tears, and Clark's hand on her shoulder comforted her. By rights Ella should've been sitting in that chair right now, or more correctly should've been rising to hug her oldest, but that would never happen again. Instead, the house was full of in-laws: all the Whites, the Langs, and the Hubbards, in addition to the Troupes and Lane-Kents. Twenty-two people, all told, ranging from eight years old to almost eighty. Plenty of company to distract from the one who was missing, except that Lois could easily visualize her mother as an island of serenity in all of this chaotic swirl.

Perhaps Perry had understood Lois' expression, or perhaps he was just as chagrined to see Sylvia in that chair. Regardless, he pulled up another one and offered it to her. "Here, Sylvia, have the comfortable chair," he insisted gently. "I'll take that one – it's got a broken spring or something, you're lucky you didn't find it when you sat down."

"Thank you, Perry," Sylvia replied warily as she moved, and only then did she look up at Lois. Resentment flashed in her eyes for an instant before she smiled. Things had never been favorable between them, not since Lois had first met her at seventeen, long before she and Richard had ever laid eyes on one another. "Hello, Lois. You're looking well."

Lois took a seat on the couch, barely aware of Lana making room for her or of Clark standing beside her, his hand still on her shoulder. "Thanks," Lois said, holding reign over her temper for the second time that day. "You, too." Determined to distract herself, she glanced around for Jason and Kala, but they had found their way through a sea of relatives to the back door and were outside now with their cousins.

Suddenly there was a voice in her ear, trying to soothe her. "Lois, calm down. These are the new puppies," Lana murmured. "The one with the blue bow is Sergeant, and the red bow is Pepper." The redhead raised one eyebrow slightly when Lois turned to study them. That was almost as bad as Muffin and Biscuit, the two dogs that Lois now remembered hearing had passed away last year.

"They're adorable," Clark said as he watched them play, always the peace-keeper, and won himself a genuine smile from Sylvia. "I didn't know they'd be here; we brought Bagel and put her down outside with the others."

"We're keeping them apart for now," Ron commented, coming over to greet his brother- and sister-in-law. "These guys are so tiny, I don't want them to get knocked over on their first visit. Lois, Clark, can I bring you anything to drink?"

"Definitely" was Lois' instantaneous reply. And the look she cut Ron read like a billboard: _The stronger the better._

Clark also nodded, adding, "But don't trouble yourself – I know where to find Ma, and I'll bring back beverages. Anyone else?" All the others had their libations, so with one last squeeze of Lois' shoulder he headed for the kitchen. The Yorkies chased after him again, putting Clark at pains not to accidentally step on one, and Michelle trailed them, giggling.

"That has got to be the happiest child in all creation," Ben Hubbard said quietly. The old man just beamed, watching her antics. "I've never once seen her without a smile on her face."

Ron just shook his head fondly. "Trust me, it happens. But she's mostly as much an angel as her mother."

"What is it with the men in this family and flattery?" Lois retorted with a grin. "Either you've been with her so long you see beyond it or my baby sister's been lying to you. Despite her looks, Lucy was _never_ an angel."

Clark returned with Lois' drink, and she let the conversation wash over her without paying much attention to it. The scent of roasted turkey drifted out from the kitchen, along with all of the other mouth-watering aromas that meant _home_. Maybe she could finally relax a little, with Clark sort of half-standing, half-leaning against the sofa, his arm protectively around her shoulders, and wasn't this all just blissful?

The patio door opened suddenly, Kristin tearing across the room with a gleeful yell of "Lo-Lo's here!" Lois sat up, beaming in delight, and opened her arms to the little redhead.

"The door!" Ron called, but it was already too late. Kristin had left it open behind her – too eager to see Lois to remember such things – and the Troupes' dog had followed her inside. Sylvia gasped as Sergeant and Pepper both rushed at him, barking.

Marny, like his predecessor, had been acquired from a shelter, and like Hennessey he was a large mixed-breed who had been chosen for his athletic build, short coat, and easygoing temperament. Also like Hennessey, Marny was mostly pit bull, or some similar breed. He skidded to a halt and stared down at the two black-and-tan puffballs yapping at his feet, while everyone held their breath. All the adults were thinking the same thing: it would take Marny about two bites, tops…

The big dog looked up at Ron, and his owner answered his questioning expression. "They're dogs, too," Ron said, chuckling a little. "They're _puppies_, Marny, play nice."

He knew what the words _dog_ and _puppy_ were, and what _play_ meant. Marny lowered his head for a cautious sniff, his tail wagging. "Get him back before he eats them!" Sylvia cried, getting up. "C'mere, Sergeant, Pepper, come on!"

Kristin, who had been snuggled into Lois' arms when the panic began, turned wide and worried blue eyes full of guilt up to Lois. Her voice was low and confused when she whispered, "Marny wouldn't eat the puppies up, would he, Lo-Lo? He's a nice doggie!"

Lois sighed, shaking her head. "Only if we're lucky, Cuddlebug," she whispered back just before Lana hissed her name and nudged her shoulder. Lois could only laugh.

"Marny doesn't eat little dogs," Michelle had stated disdainfully in the meantime. "He eats _broccoli_, 'cuz I don't like it."

"Michelle, don't let your mom hear you say that," Ron warned. He'd managed to step over his youngest to reach the door and close it, but three beagle noses were already pressed to the glass. "Sylvia, he's fine."

Just then, Marny tried to lick Sergeant's face, accidentally bowling the puppy over. Ron called him and opened the door, sending him back outside, and the two terriers followed, meeting the other dogs with cheerful yaps. Almost immediately, Sylvia was fretting. "They don't have their sweaters on!"

"The kids will keep an eye on them," Ron soothed. "We've got the sunroom open for the dogs so they have someplace warm to go besides underfoot."

"Let 'em be dogs for once," Perry groused, and Sylvia sighed in defeat.

Kristin, who had been scolded sotto-voce for not being more careful with the door once her mother was finished with Lois, was now lying sprawled across both women's laps. True to form, she was already beginning to doze off. Lois looked over at Lana with a wry grin, and the redhead laughed. "Now you see why I call her Dormouse."

Clark smiled at the little girl with affection. "She did this at our house a week or two ago. Jason picked her up and held her upside down. She opened her eyes, laughed, and went right back to snoring like a freight train."

With that common thread, Sylvia joined the conversation tentatively. "I think she gets that from Richard," she said, smiling at her sleeping granddaughter. "When he was little, he'd run all over the place, then flop down wherever he was and fall right asleep. Once I found him sleeping in his sandbox."

Lois looked down and bit her lip, holding back all the teasing comments she didn't want to say in front of her ex's mother. Of course, Richard didn't help by replying casually, "Hey, wasn't that the time I got tanned all down one side of my face? I showed it off at school the next day. I was so proud. I got to be the amazing Technicolor boy."

That got Lana laughing, Lois only a beat behind. "Only you, sweetheart."

"I knew you had problems, boy, but don't advertise 'em," Perry growled.

…

The wind off the river was brisk, but Jason didn't feel it. He was too busy slinking along the side of the house, cautiously peering around the corner. He'd found a patch of snow that hadn't _quite_ melted, and made the biggest snowball he could. Now all he had to do was sneak up on Kala…

"Gotcha, Dopey!" his twin sister yelled in his ear, and Jason dropped the snowball. He fell right on top of it when she tackled him, too. Laughing maniacally, Kala snatched the hat off his head and went running, leaving Jason to get up and dust himself off slowly. How the hell had she known what he was up to, anyway? Jason stuck his tongue out at her irritably.

An atypical surly undercurrent had darkened his mood all day, like a low-pressure system hovering offshore and wrecking the weather inland. Jason was trying not to let it bother him, but that little spark of resentment just wouldn't die. _Quit it,_ he told himself for the umpteenth time. _You're being a jerk. Mom and Dad had really good reasons, reasons that make __**sense**__. So quit whining. You sound like Kala._

Still, he couldn't help thinking that if he'd wanted to bring _Elise_ to Thanksgiving dinner, Mom would've been fine with it. In spite of the way she'd calmly explained to him that twenty-two people was more than enough for a family dinner, one simple fact stood out. She liked Elise; she didn't like Giselle. The same was probably true of his father, for all that Dad had said this holiday should be just family, and none of the other kids were bringing dates. Nobody in the family liked Giselle, except him.

Oh, they were more polite than Kala, and they were very kind to Mrs. Davenport as well. But Jason didn't get that welcoming vibe he'd sensed so strongly whenever Elise was around. Even at the birthday party, his own parents had spent more time talking to his ex than to his girlfriend!

Jason glowered, hanging back from the laughing group of teens and dogs. The worst part of it was, he _knew_ he was being a typical teenager at that moment, moody and too inclined to take things personally. The more rational part of his mind told him that not everybody hated Giselle … and if they _did_ dislike her, wasn't that something he should take into consideration? But the voice of reason was drowned out by a sullen tide of resentment.

Brooding, Jason didn't notice he was no longer alone. A little hand tugged at his sleeve, and Jason turned to see Bryan looking up at him, a puppy in each hand. "They're shiverin'," he said, his face full of worry.

_Why does it always have to be __**me**__?_ _I don't even want to like them._ Sighing inwardly, Jason said, "Here, let me have them." He tucked both puppies into the front of his jacket where they'd warm up, and noticed that Bryan's nose was a little red, too. "You know, I'm getting a little chilly myself. Wanna go inside and raid the horse d'overs?" That was Nora's phrase, invented when she saw the French words for 'appetizers' spelled out, and all of the Lane kids had adopted the neologism.

"Yeah!" Bryan replied with such enthusiasm that Jason had to laugh as he led him over to where the rest of the kids were romping. A few words with Sam, and the two older boys managed to shepherd the rest of the younger kids indoors. By then, the whole house smelled delicious, and the kids fell upon the trays of olives and sliced cheese and cocktail shrimp like a horde of locusts.

The dogs came inside, too, making themselves inconspicuous after a few stern reminders from their owners. Jason went over to Sylvia, and felt a bit like a street magician as he brought the tiny terriers out of his jacket. "Here you are," he said. "They were starting to get cold, so I brought them in."

Both Yorkies started wagging their tails and licking the air at the sight of her, and Sylvia took them gladly. To Jason's surprise, she smiled warmly at him. "Thank you, sweetheart. That was very kind of you."

Jason and Kala _had_ gone to visit Theo and Sylvia in Florida. After all, Lana had made it very plain to Sylvia that she and Richard considered the twins their children, too, and that she would no more tolerate one of their grandmothers ignoring them than she would tolerate Sylvia badmouthing Lois. But those visits – always in the company of Richard, Lana, and Kristin, as Lois would never again set foot in Sylvia's home – were typically a bit strained in spite of the fact that Theo and the twins got along wonderfully. Still, as Clark said, sometimes family was as much about duty as about love, and Jason had always been polite to Sylvia, even if he'd never been very close to her. This was perhaps the first time she'd ever shown unalloyed happiness with him, and he was mildly shocked by it. "It's no trouble," he managed, nonplussed, and then recovered enough to think of something else to say. "They're pretty cute at this age."

"They're _adorable_," Sylvia crooned, and kissed each puppy on the nose. Theo, sitting nearby, just rolled his eyes and looked skyward. Jason caught his glance, and grinned.

…

Lois had found her way into the kitchen, where Lucy was sliding the turkey back into the oven after testing its temperature. "Another ten or fifteen minutes," she muttered, closing the oven. When she saw Lois standing in the doorway, the blonde broke into her trademark infectious grin. "Lo! I thought kitchens were your personal kryptonite."

Scoffing, Lois rumpled her sister's hair. "Says the woman who scarfs down my pies and cookies like there's no tomorrow," she teased back.

"Okay, you're a first-class baker of desserts, but when it comes to roasting things, stick to your day job," Lucy replied. They both paused to listen to the happy sounds of the kids coming in from outside; Marny appeared at the doorway, but he knew perfectly well that the kitchen was off-limits whenever cooking was in progress. He lay down and watched the two of them, his deep-set dark eyes permanently set in a thoughtful expression.

Lois leaned on the counter and sighed, Lucy echoing her, and they shared a look full of affection and memories. After a moment, though, Lucy's eyes narrowed, and she stood back to look at Lois with a sister's knowing eye. "You've lost weight again," she declared, scowling. "Lois, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," the reporter replied. "I've just been working too hard to take lunch, that's all. You know how I get when I'm focused." She felt a little guilty, lying to her little sister, but what else could she do? Admit that she ate as much as usual, and had fretted off the extra pounds with nervous energy?

There was so much to worry about these days, it seemed. Lois was particularly rankled by the recent unveiling of L-Tech's newest super-fast computer processor. It was called the KAL chip, a deliberate slight in Clark's direction. He and Lois both knew that Lex Luthor owned L-Tech, though it was managed by a woman named Mercy Graves, and the connections between her and Luthor were tenuous at best. The proof was in the design of the new processor, a clear adaptation of Kryptonian technology, but to challenge it would bring more problems than it would solve.

Clark had been furious at that latest proof that Luthor was still out there somewhere, still using the crystals he'd stolen from the Fortress, and Lois had been unable to comfort him. She still hadn't told him about that last confrontation with Luthor, or the promise she'd made to guarantee her family's safety. It gnawed at her, keeping her awake some nights, but she reminded herself that Luthor had been true to his word so far. No one had bothered the family, and he had never revealed his knowledge of Superman's identity – and the Lane-Kent twins' otherworldly parentage – to anyone. That was worth a little insomnia, in Lois' mind.

But it still wasn't something she could talk to Lucy about, and when Martha and Annette came into the kitchen to check on the progress, Lois was relieved.

…

The long formal table in the dining room was crowded, for once, and the kids' table was unusually quiet thanks to the presence of Lucy's oldest three. Richard had briefly been threatened with sitting at their table, as well, but it didn't stop him from joking and teasing until Lois wrenched herself out of her melancholy mood and smacked him with an oven mitt.

After saying grace, they'd gone around the table naming something they were thankful for, as was Lane family tradition these days. Most of them were sweet, and some were a little silly, but Clark had squeezed Lois' hand as he said, "I'm thankful to have everyone I love here with me this holiday … and that includes those not seated at the table." Most of the gathering had laughed, thinking he was teasing the kids, but Lois, Lucy, and Martha had all gotten misty-eyed. They knew he was speaking of Jonathan and Ella, gone but not forgotten, and present in the minds and hearts of those who loved them.

When the meal was finished, everyone was replete with food. The men were in the living room, supposedly watching television but mostly dozing off. The kids, more honest, were sprawled on the floor of the den, snoring. Even Sam was being used as a pillow by the three youngest.

Since Lucy had cooked the turkey, Martha refused to allow her to clean up. She chased Lois and Lana out of the kitchen after they'd loaded the dishwasher, and set about scrubbing the roasting pan and dishes too large to fit in the dishwasher. Only when she went to put the roasting pan down on a towel to dry did she realize Annette had followed her. The other woman – once a brilliant redhead like her daughter, now white as snow – took the pan and dried it without speaking.

Martha enjoyed washing dishes. It was an activity where she usually got the peace and quiet she craved; Jonathan had been a sweetheart, and so was Clark, but neither of them objected to letting her clean up if she wanted to. And Annette either knew or guessed that she wanted silence, for she dried while Martha washed without a single word. Only when all the dishes were done and replaced in the cabinets, Martha toweling off her hands with the odd sense of pride dishwashing always gave her, did the other woman finally speak. "Awfully quiet this Thanksgiving," she said, glancing at Martha. "With this many people, and so many of them kids, I half expected to have a headache by now."

Chuckling, Martha shook her head. "Not this year," she replied slowly. "It was only March when Ella passed, you know."

Annette nodded. "She was a grand lady," she said thoughtfully. "I did like her. She never gave you the feeling that she was too 'city' for Smallville. Not that you'd mistake her for a country girl like us. But she was lovely. I'll miss her."

Martha tried to smile, but found her mouth trembling too much. On the second try, she managed to say, "Not as much as I will," but her vision blurred.

Annette didn't offer any words of comfort, simply rubbed Martha's shoulders while she got herself under control again. Perhaps there were no words of comfort when you had left retirement age far behind you, and realized that losing friends was something you'd be doing a lot of in the future. Maybe she even knew that it was worse in some ways to lose the friends of the past decade than the ones she'd grown up with. Annette and Martha had been young together, had gone to the same schools, had giggled at the same boys and been afraid of the same strict teachers. When they parted, it would be terrible, but all those shared years would be a comfort. Martha had many memories of Ella, but she would miss all the things they hadn't done together.

Of course, Annette didn't know one of the most poignant losses that Martha was suffering. Ella had known the truth about Clark, a secret Martha had never shared with anyone but Jonathan. It had been very sweet to share the wonder of her son with another mother, and very useful to get to know the woman who had brought Lois into the world. Whenever Martha was perplexed (or slightly horrified) by her daughter-in-law, she could consult Ella and learn the reasons for the reporter's behavior.

Martha dashed tears from her eyes. If she could look at Ella's coffee cup hanging above her sink every day, as if the other woman would be there any moment to drink a mug of strong black coffee with her, then she could get through Thanksgiving without sobbing. "I'm fine," she told Annette, and got a disbelieving smile in response. "What I learned, with Jonathan, was that grief never really goes away. It can always sneak up on you sometime. But eventually the memories grow more sweet than bitter." She smiled bravely.

Nodding, Annette replied, "That sounds a lot like Martin talking about my cooking skills after a year or so." Martha welcomed the laughter.

* * *


	10. A Few Words Too Many

* * *

**_Just a few words too many  
In my head  
A few words too many  
In this bed  
A few words too many  
Left unsaid..._**

~ Billie Myers, _**A Few Words Too Many**_

* * *

Clark found himself in a very unexpected position. It was the first Saturday evening in December, and he was home alone. Jason and Kala were with Richard and Lana this weekend, and Lois had gone in to work in the afternoon, expecting to be there late. The burdens of administration never ended, and if the late-breaking story had been international instead of local, Clark would've been the one at the office on a weekend, while Lois had the apartment to herself.

Normally, Clark would've enjoyed a day off, some time to simply put his feet up and relax. Instead, he was avoiding the house, and had very little that needed to be done outside it. His Christmas shopping was done, and the plans for their holiday trip to Smallville were already finalized. He had done a couple of rescues that morning, mostly minor stuff, but when he stopped to get a kitten out of a tree Clark had to admit he was just bored.

Still, he didn't want to linger at home. This morning's fiasco was still very much on his mind. He'd been out very late last night, between the JLA public appearance in California yesterday evening and having to go out on a rescue afterward. Clark hadn't gotten to sleep until the three o'clock in the morning, which left him short on sleep. He'd skipped his morning rounds and slept in a little, only to wake up to an argument between Lois and Kala. No idea what it had been about, just that their raised voices drilled into his skull until he got up and stalked into the kitchen. Clark rarely spoke harshly to anyone, especially not his wife and children, but he had demanded silence quite sternly. When Lois and Kala both tried to explain, he'd testily replied that he didn't care what it was about or who said what first, so long as they both hushed.

Twenty minutes later, the front door had slammed as Lois left, knowing perfectly well that she was supposed to take the kids to the Whites' on her way. Jason had stuck his head out of his room, calling "Mom?!" in a startled voice that seemed to belong to a much younger version of himself.

Clark had sighed, growling under his breath at Lois, and told both kids to get dressed. _He'd _take them, but only if they were ready in half an hour. Kala, still miffed about the argument, had been silent through the car ride until her brother hissed, "Everything would've been fine if you'd just kept your mouth shut about the stupid picture!"

Before Clark could ask, Kala retorted angrily, "It's not _my_ fault the Wonder Wench was on page one! Mom would've seen it anyway. All I did was comment."

"Yeah, on how her special Amazonian power is staying wrinkle-free at her age," Jason had shot back acidly. "And how that bustier ought to come with a warning, at her height she could poke some guys' eyes out with those things. Real classy, Kal, and just what Mom wants to hear in the morning."

He'd left out _especially when Dad was out all night,_ but he might as well have said it. Clark wanted to bang his forehead against the steering wheel; Lois' animosity toward Diana of Themyscira was unfounded, so far as he knew, but deeply held. He had forgotten that the JLA press conference yesterday would be covered in today's paper, and photos of Wonder Woman particularly incensed Lois. Sighing in aggravation, he'd broken up the kids' quarreling and dropped them off with Richard and Lana. Over Kristin's excited squeals, he'd managed to warn Richard that both twins might be a little temperamental, and the younger man had only shrugged. "Life with teens," he'd said philosophically.

Clark had gone out, but now found himself with nothing to do. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost lunch time. Just enough time to pick up a pizza for Lois and bring it to the office. Clark grinned at the thought; it wasn't _his_ fault she was angry, and he didn't think he'd done anything wrong that morning to deserve the way she'd stormed out. But apologizing to her wouldn't hurt, and would most likely allow the whole mess to just blow over.

He wondered, rather more often than he used to, what was going on in Lois' mind. Once she had been an open book to him, but lately he seemed to be missing a few pages. At times, it felt as though he was also trying to read upside-down, in an unfamiliar language. Lois' propensity for keeping secrets wasn't news to Clark, but for a long time it seemed that their marriage was based on open, honest communication. Just lately, though…

Sometimes Lois would snap at him, seemingly for no reason. And half her arguments with Kala seemed utterly irrational to Clark. Lois had been very enthusiastic about the JLA when it was first formed, but her attitude had cooled significantly over the last year or so, and now she got disgruntled every time the League was mentioned. Clark couldn't understand why, and Lois wouldn't tell him. She wouldn't tell him _anything_ about her moods anymore – why she was upset or angry, or what he could do to help her. He knew she was under pressure, and did his best to relieve it, but that was all he could do for her without knowing what specifically was stressing her.

Sighing a little, Clark headed out to Lois' favorite pizza place to get her dinner. That, at least, was something he could do for her and be certain she would enjoy it.

…

Almost immediately after arriving at the Whites' house, Kala and Jason had stopped their quarreling. It was hard to be snide to each other when Kristin was practically climbing their legs, demanding to be held and swung. Besides, any home that Lana lived in became an island of serenity, and both teenagers behaved more graciously there.

After their Saturday outing – a whirlwind tour of the bookstore, the music shop, and the new café, Fuel – Kala was starting to feel a little tired. Her allowance had bought two used CDs, a hardcover Stephen King anthology and a couple of paperbacks, and a large sugarplum spice latte. Even better, she'd hung around Fuel long enough to learn that it was a club of sorts in the evening. They still sold coffee and neat appetizers, but they moved the furniture around to create a dance floor. Like many teen venues, they hosted an open-mike night, but they went a step beyond, in Kala's opinion.

Fuel featured a lot of local bands, the kinds of acts that tended to open for bigger bands until they managed to sign their own record deal. When those garage bands headlined at Fuel, _someone_ had to open for them. Since Fuel also had a karaoke machine, their answer was to let anyone with the guts to approach the mike sing a few songs. Once Kala learned that, she decided that was going to be her next major goal in life: sing in front of an audience that wasn't comprised of art-school teachers, students, and parents.

That news had even been thrilling enough for her to overlook Giselle being at the bookstore. Kala had sighed loudly at the time, but most of the kids at Stalmaster tended to congregate at the same places. News of something like Fuel would spread through the school in a couple of weeks, and by January Kala could expect to see familiar faces there any time she visited.

All the excitement – good and otherwise – was probably what had worn her down. Now, all she wanted was a little peace and quiet, perhaps even a brief nap. When Kala strolled into the living room, she saw Jason sitting on the sofa while Kristin sprawled on the floor, drawing in her sketch pad. Dusty was snoring in his bed nearby, all four feet in the air. Yawning, Kala went over to Jason and nudged his shoe with the toe of her boot. "Lemme have the couch?" she asked.

He looked up at her incredulously. "Now? But Mythbusters is on! They're testing a hwacha. It's this ancient Korean war machine with black powder…"

Kala yawned more forcefully. "Sorry, you lost me in the geek-speak. If you won't move and miss your precious whatchamacallit, at least budge over?"

Jason rolled his eyes and slid over, muttering, "Don't call me a geek, Elvira."

Kala stuck her tongue out at him and dropped onto the couch, leaning against him. She wriggled her shoulders until she found a comfortable position, and tipped her head back to grin at him. "You make a pretty good pillow, brother mine."

Jason sighed. "You're just as much a geek as I am, by the way."

"Nuh-uh," she said, in outright denial of all the times they'd both watched Discovery channel programming in rapt amazement.

"Yes-huh," he retorted, and they both chuckled.

The sound finally caught Kristin's attention, and she turned to look at her older siblings. Her drawing was close to done, so she flipped the sketchpad cover closed and got up, ambling over to the pair on the couch. "Can I sit with you?" she asked plaintively.

"Of course," Kala said. She patted her leg, offering her lap.

Kristin was happy to oblige, and scrambled up easily. She was the right height to sit in Kala's lap and lean back, her head tucked under Kala's chin and her feet resting on Kala's knees. The three of them lay like that, Jason watching the television and the two girls dozing, for almost an hour. Jason saw Lana come in to check on them once, and leave them to their own devices with a smile. Kala heard her, but didn't open her eyes. She was half-asleep but more aware than she normally was when awake; her fantastic hearing was automatically tracking the heartbeats of everyone in the penthouse, as well as listening to the noises of the building and the outdoors. _This is how Dad hears the world, _she thought briefly, and smiled in satisfaction before slipping into dreams.

After Mythbusters went off, Jason watched a special about Egyptian pharaohs. As the program wound to a close, Richard stepped in and looked at the three of them. "Hey tiger," he said to Jason. "I see you're developing my talent for attracting the ladies. Just for my sake, try to make it work on someone besides your sisters. Am I gonna need a crowbar to pry Kristin away for her bath?"

"Gross," Jason commented sourly. "We're not in Alabama, Dad. And I think you will need a crowbar for Little Red."

Chuckling, Richard reached over to tickle his daughter under the chin. "Hey there, kidlet. Bath time."

"Nooooo," Kristin whined, batting at his hand. "Wanna stay wi' Jason 'n' Kala."

"You have to get a bath, little one," Richard insisted, stroking his fingertips down her nose. "No stinky kids in my house."

Kala stretched, almost crowding her brother off the sofa in the process, and looked up at Richard. "So you're kicking Jason out?" she asked sweetly.

Jason elbowed her. "Stop being a dweeb."

"You _are_ stinky, Jason," she replied, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Remember that time in Kansas when you went swimming in the mud to play with Mr. Fabulous Fred the Funky Frog?"

Jason's jaw dropped in horror. "Um, excuse _me_, but I just called him Fred. And we _both_ wound up dumped in the bath for it."

"Daddy's first time bathing us," Kala said. "He didn't know how, remember?"

"It's easy," Richard cut in. "Put some detergent in the washing machine, drop the kid in, and set it on the gentle cycle."

"Dad!" Kala groaned. "Now I don't trust you to bathe Kristin. Heck, I don't trust you to bathe _Dusty_. C'mon, Little Red, upsa-daisy. _I'll_ give you your bath."

As she got to her feet, holding the still-whining Kristin, Richard grinned at Jason and shot him a thumb's-up. "See how I managed to get out of bathing her? I am awesome. Watch and learn, my son, watch and learn."

Jason guffawed. "You'd better supervise Kala and make sure she doesn't dye Kristin's hair black again, though."

Now it was Richard's turn to groan. "God, when Lana saw that I thought she'd have a heart attack. Either that or go psychotic and kill us all. I'm _so_ glad it was the wash-out Halloween stuff."

"I am _not_ homicidal, Richard James White," Lana said from the doorway, looking at him with auburn brows raised and her arms folded.

"Oh no, she used my middle name," Richard stage-whispered to Jason. "Word of advice – any time your woman does that to you, run like hell." He followed his own advice, giving Lana a quick peck on the cheek before dashing out to check on Kristin and Kala.

Lana shook her head in amusement, and came in to sit beside Jason. "Well, at least _one_ other person in this family is remotely sane," she said with a gentle smile.

…

The keys on Lois' keyboard were screaming in protest as those hazel eyes bored a hole through her monitor. When she'd left on Friday, there had been several irons in the fire and the fury she was feeling this evening would be channeled into research on them. Thank God Perry wasn't in or she had this feeling she'd strangle the old man with his necktie.

When the news of the press conference had first come through, she had held her temper. They had originally had dinner plans out with the whole family, but those had only been tentative. There was general disappointment; both Kala and Lois had been looking forward to trying out the new Korean restaurant that had opened up a couple of blocks from the house on Stern. When the appearance had been announced, the other three had sighed and shrugged, declaring that it was fine. Kal-El had promised that he'd be home before it got too late with a pint of the blueberry-acai ice cream that was the current house-favorite dessert.

The meal had been unbelievable, all three of the Lane-Kents eating more than their fair share: Lois and Jason partaking of _Shinseollo_ and _Nakji Bokkeum_; Kala, who was making a dedicated attempt at vegetarianism this week, managing to put away just as much of _Japchae _and_ Doraji Namul_. Filled to the brim with excellent food, they had managed to make it home without a single fight (a minor miracle). The first of Metropolis' Christmas lights were being lit up for the first time of the season on their way back to Reeve Plaza. It had been a relaxing and even fun evening for all.

Kal-El still hadn't returned by the time they got home, but none of them had really been surprised. According to him, he was leaving to go directly to the appearance when he had left them at fifteen to six. It was only just eight when they arrived. From experience, they all knew that it would be at least three hours before they could expect to see him. At the _least_. Still in the cheerful mood that had buoyed them thus far this evening; they had all spent the evening watching a marathon of a show called _Damages_ that Jason had run across a few weeks before. All of them were so engrossed that it amazed them when the last episode aired and they realized that it was after midnight. Both yawning hugely, the twins had gotten their hugs before bed and headed down the hallway to their rooms, only shoving each other half-heartedly before separating for the night.

It had only been a short time later that she turned off the living room lights and the television. It was getting more than a little late; especially after the long day she'd had. Calling Bagel's name, Lois strolled toward her bedroom, hearing the beagle's tags jingle as she got up from the heating vent she'd been snoozing on to follow her.

While Bagel had gotten herself settled in for the night, Lois had taken a shower. Part of her had hoped to have company before she finished, but no such luck. It wasn't the first time that she'd spent the night alone since they married; she'd live. Even if he got caught up in something, they had all day tomorrow.

Her laid-back attitude had only started to slip when she realized that it was nearing two o'clock in the morning and she had yet to hear from her husband. As was her habit, despite the late hour, she turned on CNN as she dressed in a nightgown and got into bed.

Thinking about it now, the keys howled and rattled as she pounded them with aggravation. And within moments of her tuning in, their coverage of the conference was being recounted; all was well until a single image turned her whole day on its ear.

The three founding members of the Justice League of America were known to the press, perhaps blasphemously, as the Trinity: Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. Lois had been let in on their secrets as well as several other JLA members in order to protect them both; a little misdirection at the right time, coming from a reporter of her legendary status, had saved several superheroes from being exposed. It also amused her to have interviewed Bruce long before she learned about his extracurricular activities, even shortly before she'd met Clark.

In the video clip, Kal-El was speaking into the microphone, answering reporters' questions, his attention focused on the crowd. Bruce and Diana were both waiting, pretty much just backing up their colleague. Lois knew that Bruce hated these public appearances, and beneath the mask she saw his scowl. He looked bored, and Lois had smiled a little at his expression; someone would much rather be beating the snot out of Gotham's criminals than making nice with the public. Diana, however, was the emissary of her people, as much politician as hero, and she did much better with the public stuff. But at that moment, she didn't have her mind on business…

Diana was watching Kal-El attentively. No, _raptly_. She looked at him like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream, and Lois had felt her temperature begin to rise. Back when Wonder Woman had first appeared on the superhero scene, some wag had made the comment that Superman was single, and wouldn't that be the match of the century? If any man could handle a Wonder Woman, it would be Superman, and many other witty little remarks. Lois had to stifle her instinct to bellow that he was _married_, dammit – she couldn't do that without revealing his identity.

She'd been angry, but she hadn't become _furious_ until she'd overheard another reporter saying that Lois Lane was a hottie, but still, she was only human. Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex. Now this Wonder Woman had powers of her own… The rest of the conversation had been drowned out by the red tide of wrath in Lois' mind, and if she could have found the speaker in the crowd, she might have done something regretful.

Lois had never told Kal-El about any of this, but he probably knew. Her fears had gradually eased. It helped that by the time the JLA was founded, Bruce and Diana both knew about Clark's identity, as he knew theirs, and Diana had been filled in at length about his marriage and his children. She'd seemed to step back from Kal-El, and he had always treated her like any other colleague, almost seeming not to notice that she was a beautiful woman with powers to match his own, a woman who would never age…

The simple fact of Diana's existence had led Lois to start buying expensive cosmetics and dyeing her hair; even the tiniest glimpse of gray was too much to bear with the freakin' Princess of the Amazons around. But she hid those activities from Clark, skulking around to purchase the age-defying moisturizers and checking to make sure she wasn't followed to the salon. Lois hated herself for it; Kal-El had never given her any reason to be vain or jealous, but she couldn't help it.

They'd been at a détente of sorts, Lois growling whenever Wonder Woman was in the news, and Diana keeping away from Kal-El. But that little snippet of video last night … it was only four or five seconds in which Kal-El said something to make the crowd chuckle, and Diana had looked at him and smiled. Not the smile that complimented a colleague on a nice bit of work, but a smile full of attraction, a smile that found Kal-El fascinating and well-nigh irresistible. Lois knew that look; she'd felt it on her own face too many times to count. As a woman who had reason to be frequently disappointed in men – a circumstance Diana shared – Lois was often amazed by the many little ways in which Kal-El failed to disappoint. He didn't lie, he didn't denigrate others to bolster his own self-image, he didn't use people, and he _never _thought of women as objects or chattel. Combined with his looks, Kal-El was actually a little too good to be real. A lot of women gave him that amazed smile, and Lois usually laughed it off. But not where Diana was concerned…

Infuriated, Lois had viciously stabbed at the OFF button on the remote, and as soon as the television went dark she flung the remote at the television. Bagel had yelped at the sound of it hitting the wall, the little dog diving off the bed to hide beneath it. Lois hadn't even bothered to comfort her pet; she'd just wanted to make sure she was deeply asleep whenever Kal-El finally dragged himself home.

Sleep had drained the most of the fury out of her, although she had already made the decision that she wouldn't spend the day at home due to her continued irritation. It would just chafe at her until she turned on Kal-El with her temper blazing and demanded an explanation. He had gotten in extremely late, she knew. She herself had broken down and taken three Tylenol PM at around four to assure herself of at least five hours of rest before heading to the paper. Well, that and she just couldn't handle facing him. And all would have stayed well if Kala hadn't seen fit to show her ass at the breakfast table. After seeing that same smile on Diana's face the night before and having been all too aware of the differences between herself and the Amazon, Lois had just barely managed to not rip the newspaper out of her daughter's hands. It wasn't the first time that she'd had this splashed in her face. And if the picture was on the front page of her paper, God only knew what the others would print.

Never mind the fact that it was _Clark's_ fault in the first place that Kala had anything to taunt her with; he'd scheduled one of his own people to cover the press conference in Sacramento and he'd asked Jimmy to come along for it. Yes, it was an excellent opportunity to be front and center at one of the rare gatherings of the Justice League, and Jimmy had been thrilled, but to see what had been whispered about on the front page of her own paper. To think that her own photographer had shot that piece of tripe…

"Hi, Lois," Eastlake said, rapping his knuckles against the open door. "Mind if I intrude?"

She'd jerked her head up, startled by the sound, and forced herself to relax with a little chuckle. "Sure, Erik, have a seat," she said. By now, her smile wasn't forced; Eastlake had picked up the intricacies of running a newspaper like a sponge soaking up knowledge instead of water. He was that rarest of inheritance investors, one who had discovered a passion for the thing that his father considered merely a sound stock. If he'd been looking for a job, Lois might've hired him – enthusiasm and curiosity were key traits in a budding reporter.

But by all accounts, Eastlake had never worked and didn't intend to start now. He'd inherited enough money to keep him in the style to which he was accustomed, and accountants saw to it that the money kept on growing. It was only when a whim struck him that Erik looked into his investments personally. And Lois appreciated his current fancy: her newspaper. He'd already contributed to the funds Perry had established for upgrading the presses and the computer network.

Best of all, though, Erik was the only man Lois had met in the past twenty years who _hadn't_ asked about her most famous story. He was interested in her as an administrator, not as a reporter.

"I had an idea about the network thing," he said, leaning forward to brace his elbows on her desk. "It'd be more costly going in, but you'd save yourself a lot of trouble in the long run."

"Oh really?" Lois asked, intrigued.

"Switch over to the new Kal processors in your central servers," he said, his eyes excited. Lois felt her heart plummet, but Eastlake didn't notice. "They're faster, they're more energy-efficient, and they require almost no maintenance."

"They're new on the market," Lois said through numb lips. "No one knows how much maintenance they require long-term."

"Nah, the L-Tech research and development facility's been using them in all its mainframes for seven years," Erik said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Not a single burnout. Upgrading them is easy, too. They are _heavier_ than silicone chips, and when you're running as many computers as L-Tech is, that means you have to reinforce the floors, but you won't have that problem here. _And_, L-Tech is going to come out with a new memory module specifically designed to work with their processor … but you didn't hear it from me!"

Lois felt her stomach plummet. L-Tech was Luthor's company, somehow. He ran it through a long chain of intermediaries, since he was still wanted on two murder charges in Metropolis, but she knew it was his. The Kal processor proved it – and from what Eastlake was saying, more Kryptonian-based technology would soon be on the market. Mastering herself, Lois said, "Really? I'm guessing that's not public information – I've been looking into the company for a while, and I haven't heard a peep about the memory."

Eastlake looked sheepish. "Well, I own stock with them, too. Pop got in on the ground floor – took ten percent of the stock at the initial public offering of the company. He didn't normally take risks like that, but the prototype processor at the demonstration convinced him. L-Tech is going to be the next IBM, was how he put it. At the last shareholders' meeting, they unveiled the plans for the memory. There's talk of an upgrade to the Kal processor in five years or so, too."

He was almost pathetically eager to please, and Lois had the gut feeling that Eastlake wasn't one of Luthor's employees. It was probably just as he'd said – his father had seen a fantastic investment opportunity, and the younger man had followed it up as enthusiastically as he was now checking out the newspaper business. As star reporter, Lois had often relied on her intuition, and she trusted it now.

She would, however, be careful. Hunches were sometimes wrong, and no matter how slight the risk, Lois wouldn't let her guard down all the way. That didn't mean that she wouldn't cultivate Eastlake as a source, however. Insider's knowledge about L-Tech was too valuable to ignore, no matter the source; it might eventually lead back to Luthor himself. And in spite of her promise, Lois couldn't pass up the chance to catch a glimpse of what her old enemy was up to these days.

With that in mind, Lois set her mind to charming Eastlake out of every last bit of information he possessed.

…

For a moment, Richard just stood in the doorway and watched Kala and Kristin. Kristin had many doting female relatives, but none so attentive as her big sister. For a while, Richard had actually worried that she wouldn't learn to walk until she got too heavy for Kala to carry. That hadn't happened, but whenever the twins were at the Whites' apartment, Kala just naturally fell into the role of Kristin's caretaker. And the little redhead loved the attention, even if she didn't love the bath. "Need my 'izzard," she informed Kala, as the teenager tested the water temperature.

"One Godzilla floaty toy, coming up," Kala replied, reaching up to grab it off the shelf above the commode. Richard grinned at the sight of it; the Godzilla tub toy had come on the market after Jason had outgrown it, but the boy had seen it in the store and loved it so much he bought it for Kristin. She was probably the only girl in the world who had a Godzilla toy floating in her Disney Princess bubble bath. Then again, Richard thought, Lana would certainly blame _him_ for the movie monster.

Kala got Kristin undressed and in the bathtub with little complaint, and starting pouring warm water down the little girl's long red hair. As usual, Kristin relaxed profoundly, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. "You have the prettiest hair," Kala sighed.

"Nuh-uh," Kristin protested lazily. "I like yours better."

"But mine's just black and wavy," Kala said. "Yours is so lovely and red."

"Your hair was red once," Kristin said, her eyes opening.

Kala chuckled, and Richard echoed her. "She bleached the black out of it and dyed it red, kidlet," he said. "Her mother almost fainted."

"She knew I was doing it," Kala said, glancing over her shoulder at Richard.

"Yeah, she just wasn't prepared for the two days you waited between bleaching and dyeing," Richard replied. He saw the irritation in her expression, and wondered at the tension between Lois and Kala. All teenage girls had problems with their moms, or so he'd heard, and Lois' reaction to the locket the twins gave her on their birthday showed how strong the love between them really was. But still, he worried…

Kala was shampooing Kristin's long hair, the younger girl once again almost falling asleep in bliss. The dark-haired teen hummed softly, and Richard recognized the melody of an old Moody Blues song. Richard sat down on the edge of the tub beside her, and Kala flashed him a quick smile.

He rumpled her hair lightly, and she shook her head as she started rinsing the lather from Kristin's hair. "Quit it, Dad."

"Sorry," Richard said. "Are things any easier with your mom?"

For a long while, Kala didn't speak, concentrating on Kristin. Richard thought she would simply sidestep the question, until she answered in a low, considering voice. "A little. Maybe."

Richard sighed under his breath. He knew that tone; it was as much Lois as the grin a moment ago had been Clark. He also knew he wouldn't be able to get another word out of Kala on the subject of her mother, and any attempt to discuss it would be met with increasing hostility. Instead, he asked, "Would you like to read Little K her bedtime story when we're done?"

"Sure," Kala said, favoring him with a smile.

…

Jason seemed distant to Lana, a faint scowl on his face as he watched television. Taken with Clark's warning about the twins' argument earlier, it worried her. She put her hand on his shoulder and felt him stiffen slightly, then relax and turn to her. He looked so mournful that he reminded her of Dusty as a pup, and she couldn't help smiling. "What's wrong, handsome?" she asked.

"Nothing," he muttered, his gaze flickering away from her eyes.

Lana smiled ruefully and stroked his cheek. "You're as good a liar as your father, Jason," she told him kindly. "Which is to say, you're not much good at lying."

He sighed hugely, lower lip pouting slightly, an expression Lana was more accustomed to seeing on Kala's face – or Lois'. The resemblances made her want to lean over and kiss his forehead, but she held her peace for the moment. With Jason, it was best not to push him; just waiting expectantly would often cause him to elaborate.

Lana knew she wasn't his first choice of confidant. He was Lois' baby boy, her firstborn and only son, and while the redhead never doubted that he loved her, the first part of his heart was given to Lois. Kala was a close – very close – second, but Lana suspected she was the only one who'd noticed the first tremors of estrangement growing between the twins. She was the last of the four parents to have come into their lives, and she saw the two teenagers with perhaps a little more clarity than the others did. Still, Jason seemed to be unable to talk to his mother or his sister about whatever was troubling him, and he hadn't gone to either dad with it either, so Lana waited to see if he would confide in her.

By the look of him, Jason had more than one worry on his mind. Lana wasn't surprised at that; those who saw only a smart, good-natured teenager were not looking hard enough. Jason was much deeper than most of them suspected. He had his insecurities, and he spent more time in weighty philosophical ponderings than the average boy his age. The only thing Lana wondered was _which_ of his concerns he would choose to share. Like his mother, Jason was a master of the bait-and-switch method of answering personal questions.

He finally came out with, "How come Mom and Kala have to fight so much?" That was one of the ones Lana had been expecting, but it didn't make it any easier to unravel, especially not with Jason looking at her plaintively. She took a few moments to marshal her thoughts on the subject, and let him see her thinking it over, knowing he'd understand the respect she gave him and his worry.

"Partly, it's a mother-daughter thing," she finally said. "I know, it sounds like a platitude, but things like that get said so often because they're so often true. I'm not looking forward to it with Kristin."

"Nuh-uh," Jason protested. "You and Little K will never…"

"We will," Lana interrupted him gently. "Almost guaranteed. I know I quarreled with my mother more than once, and I was more like Kristin than Kala when I was young. Jason, very few mothers and daughters get through adolescence without a few storms."

"This isn't a storm, it's freakin' hurricane season," Jason groused.

Lana patted his shoulder soothingly, absently noting the muscle there – Jason would one day have Clark's powerful build as well as his height. A far cry from the frail little boy she'd first met ten years ago… "Jason, honey. Your mother is very strong-willed, and she's not used to backing down. Your sister is the same way. Neither of those are _bad_ personality traits, but they do make life complicated, especially when they're in opposition to each other. All the little quibbles a teenage girl and her mother would have normally wind up becoming huge fights, because neither of them knows how to do anything but escalate."

"Escalation, like in warfare," Jason muttered cynically. "No wonder it feels like I'm living on scorched earth sometimes."

"With the language your mother uses at times, I'm surprised there aren't literal scorch marks on the walls," Lana joked, and she surprised a chuckle out of Jason. While he was still smiling at that, she asked, "Now what's _really_ bothering you?"

Jason cut her an astonished look, and Lana had to bite back laughter. Kids didn't know how transparent they were to their elders, and Jason had no idea that Lana could read him so well. But he drove those thoughts from her mind with his unexpected reply. "How come you don't like Giselle?"

Lana took a deep breath. He _would_ ask that. "Jason, I don't dislike her," she said evenly. "It's just that…" She trailed off, trying to find the words to explain without sounding like the typical parent misunderstanding young love.

"Nobody does," Jason said dispiritedly. "It's like how Jor-El was about Mom – everybody thinks she's not good enough for me."

"Jason, I never said that," Lana corrected. "I don't presume to speak for anyone else, but I don't _dislike_ Giselle. I can't say I _like_ her, either, because I don't _know_ her."

"We've been going out since September," Jason replied, startled.

"Yes, and I've spoken to her plenty of times since then," Lana said. "But I've never gotten the sense that she has something she believes in strongly enough to argue it. She's never disagreed with me, or with anyone in the family, except maybe Kala. Giselle is unfailingly sweet, polite, and complimentary to every adult she meets, and I know absolutely _nothing_ about her beyond that. I can't really base an opinion of her on that alone."

"Since when is it a bad thing that she's nice?" Jason's tone had turned slightly belligerent, and he'd turned to face Lana, his back against the arm of the sofa and his brows drawing down to a scowl.

"It's not a bad thing. Listen, when you went out with…" Lana paused and made a hasty substitution, not wanting to mention Elise, "…Ashlyn, the first time I met her, I learned a lot about her. She's a very nice girl, too, but she also has opinions. Once when she came over, she and I had a very long conversation about music. There are a couple of genres she likes that I don't, and she politely disagreed with me _and_ backed up her feelings. I actually bought a CD based on that conversation, by the way."

Jason was still frowning, but she seemed to be making sense to him. "Okay."

"She might just be shy," Lana offered. "A lot of times a person who seems confident really isn't. But I'm not going to really have any reason to like or dislike Giselle until I know something about her besides the fact that she has good manners."

Lana rarely withheld information from the kids, but she did it now. One of her concerns with Giselle was something she'd never broach to Jason, not while he was so protective over the girl. Simply put, Giselle knew who Lana was, and knew that Jason was essentially her stepson. The designer treated him and Kala no differently than she treated Kristin, something Giselle had been witness to on numerous occasions.

It was reasonable to assume that Jason had access to her money, either through his allowance or through birthday gifts and the like. It was reasonable – and correct, though neither twin knew it – to assume that Jason stood to inherit part of her estate, as well. Lana had noticed that Giselle had very expensive tastes; her clothes were often designer, and Lana suspected some of them were tailored. She also wore jewelry and perfume that few teenagers could afford. Lana hadn't quite begun to suspect that the girl was more interested in Jason's money than in Jason himself, but given that they seemed a poor match in many ways…

Lana doubted that Giselle had the kind of strength to be a part of _this_ family. True, not every date Jason went on was about future marriage prospects, and Lana was fairly certain he didn't have any plans to marry Giselle. But anyone who spent significant time around the family began to notice things, the kinds of things that strained relationships: unexplained absences and unwillingness to discuss certain subjects among them. The sense of secrets kept, the feeling of being the outsider, tended to be disastrous in romance. Lana rather pitied Giselle, thinking that she was nice enough, but didn't have the determination to stick with Jason even though she was (of necessity) being kept in the dark, and suspecting that the eventual breakup would hurt both kids.

Such was life, however, and like most kids, Jason would have to learn its lessons on his own. Besides, he was perceptive enough to have noticed that all the adults in the family had given Giselle a cool reception – not cold, not even chilly, but not the warmth that he'd expected. Any advice Lana gave him at this point wouldn't be well-received; he'd just assume she was 'ganging up' on Giselle, and that would only strengthen his resolve to stay with the girl. Lana had a moment to think that the whole situation was probably driving Lois and Clark out of their minds, but they hadn't said anything against Giselle, either. They both knew, as Lana did, that young love is romantic and idealistic, and listens very little to worldly-wise realism.

Jason had fallen silent, perhaps considering Lana's remark about shyness. He was an optimist where other people were concerned, and that possible explanation probably sounded best to him. Lana decided to let him think on it for now – he was smart enough to consider other probabilities, as well. And perhaps he might even wonder how well _he_ knew Giselle, too. Getting him thinking along those lines would do a lot more good than trying to force him to break up with her.

_That's enough parenting for one night,_ Lana thought, and ruffled Jason's hair. "Kristin is probably on her way to sleep by now. You and Kala are welcome to stay up until ten-thirty, but I'd rather have my rest, and I imagine Richard feels the same – unless he finds an old horror movie on TV."

Jason grinned wryly. "I happen to know they're showing _Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla II _tonight."

"Oh, dear _Lord_," Lana groaned. "There go my plans for the evening."

…

The _Daily Planet_ was usually quiet on a Saturday evening, only a few employees taking care of the weekend editions, so Clark was startled to hear laughter as he got off the elevator. _Lois'_ laughter, at that. It shocked him, considering the way she left. She'd never even told him she was headed into work, probably due to his absence from dinner last night, and he had to learn that from the twins. Clark walked in warily, glancing through the doors and walls to see where Lois was.

Sitting in her office, with the young investor Eastlake sitting across from her. He was leaning one elbow on her desk in a familiar way that Clark immediately disliked. But he composed his expression to a pleasant mask of neutrality as he crossed the bullpen to her office.

"I'll grant her the bustier," Eastlake was saying, "it might be bulletproof for all I know, but the panties? Come _on_. You gotta be kidding me! Our resident superhero in Metropolis may wear his briefs on the outside, but at least he's wearing some tights to go with them and not flashing an acre of skin like _she_ is."

Lois was laughing so hard she was almost in tears, at least up until the remark about Superman. "There's a reason for the skintight costume," she said, between chuckles. "One, aerodynamics. Two, _he's_ invulnerable, but the costume isn't. It has to be close to his skin to be protected from damage. That's why the cape sometimes gets ripped, but the suit, never."

"Makes sense," Eastlake was saying. "So what's _her_ excuse?" Lois laughed again, trying in vain to stifle it.

Clark was beginning to get angry – something that normally took a very long time with him. But this Eastlake guy was pushing all of his buttons. First, though Clark was not normally a jealous man, this _kid_ who had inherited his father's money and never done a day's work in his life was lounging in Lois' office making sheep's-eyes at her, when he _had_ to know she was married. _Lois Lane-Kent_ was right there on the door he'd walked in, for crying out loud! Eastlake had been around an awful lot over the last two months, and he always seemed to gravitate toward Lois.

Clark could've forgiven that; he had to, considering that dozens of men looked at his wife every day, and at least one or two a week actually leered at her. Lois laughed it off as flattery, and Clark ignored it. But here she was snickering with Eastlake like a couple of high-school kids making fun of the teachers after school.

He could not forgive what Eastlake was saying – and Lois was laughing – about one of his colleagues. True, Wonder Woman's uniform was quite revealing; Clark had noticed that a lot of female superheroes tended to, well, advertise their assets. In Diana's case, she'd once confided to him that she'd had no idea how her choice of costume would be perceived. She'd come from a world without men or men's preconceptions, and the leers and wolf whistles that had greeted her first public appearances were baffling to her. Now she knew, but there was little hope of changing her uniform, and she'd accepted the slightly skewed image it had fixed in the public eye with a certain fatalism.

Clark knew how she felt – his own costume had been designed for exactly the reasons Lois had just mentioned to Eastlake, but he'd heard the joke about his briefs approximately three thousand times. Coming from that arrogant little wife-ogling rich boy's mouth, it was once too many. He all but barged into Lois' office, exaggerating his reputation for clumsiness a little. "Hi honey," he said to Lois, his tone a trifle too bright. "I brought you dinner."

Lois looked up at him, wide-eyed. The expression on her face could've been guilt, or simple astonishment. But after a second's pause, she smiled up at him, the old sweet smile he knew so well. "That's sweet of you, Clark. Do you have time to share it with me?"

That simple kindness – and the implied acceptance of his peace offering – perversely annoyed Clark even more. Someone _else_ had cajoled Lois out of her cranky mood this morning, and Clark had the feeling that it was the young man sitting in the chair beside him. He didn't look at Eastlake – didn't quite trust himself to. Instead, he settled for standing just close enough to loom, acting as though he hadn't seen the other man. "It's our day, isn't it?" he said to Lois, smiling to dispel any hint of sarcasm in his words. "Of course I have time. And I got your favorite pizza – three kinds of mushrooms, two kinds of olives, and extra feta cheese."

Lois' smile in return was somewhere between wry and amused; she'd caught the subtext, but she couldn't turn down the pizza. Turning to Eastlake, she said, "Thanks for stopping by, Erik. I'll get back with you about all this later, okay?"

"Sure," the young man said, rising from his seat. "Thanks for taking the time to talk to me, Mrs. Lane-Kent." He shook her hand, then offered his to Clark, meeting the taller man's eyes with no hesitation, no glimmer of guilt.

Clark, however, had known used-car salesmen who could lie with such open countenances, and he didn't trust the investor. He also hadn't missed Lois' usage of the man's first name. Aggravation was rapidly boiling over into anger, and Clark didn't trust himself to shake the interloper's hand. He shrugged, displaying the bag with the individual pizza boxes in his left hand and the drinks carrier in his right. "Sorry, I don't have a free hand," he said, making his voice as genial as possible. But he didn't turn to face Eastlake, just giving him a _look_ from the corner of his eye that spoke volumes.

Eastlake was not so much a fool as he seemed; he took himself out without saying anything further. Lois was looking up at Clark wonderingly, and after a moment she said, "That was pretty rude, for you – I mean, that was the equivalent of spitting on somebody's shoes."

He could make this a fight, or he could put it aside and enjoy dinner with his wife. Little wonder which Clark would choose. "If he looked any further down your cleavage, I might've spat on his shoes," he reflected, setting her pizza box on her desk as she picked up her coffee mug and rolled her eyes. "Too bad I don't have acid spit like certain other aliens I can think of."

Lois burst out laughing. "Now I _know_ you're hanging out with Richard too much," she said, and that shadow was gone from her eyes – she was his Lois again. "If you're comparing yourself to that Ridley Scott movie, you've been watching too many creature-features with Mr. White."

"Actually, I saw it with Jason," Clark said, sitting down. Once again it seemed like things could be all right, and he reached across the table to take her hand. "I love you, Lois. There isn't another like you in any galaxy, you know that?"

"I know there're quite a few people who _hope_ there isn't another me anywhere in the universe." That rejoinder was meant to be funny, but instead of the mischievous gleam he'd expected to see in her eyes, Clark only saw that odd little smile she'd been wearing on and off lately. He wasn't sure entirely what that expression portended, but it didn't make prying into her mood seem like a good idea.

Instead, Clark squeezed her hand gently, and promised himself he would make sure she knew how much she was loved by the time night gave way to morning.

* * *


	11. Tempting Fate

* * *

_**You've got this strange effect on me,  
And I like it.**_

You make my world in white,  
You make my darkness bright, oh yes.  
You've got this strange effect on me  
And I like it, and I like it.

~Hooverphonic, **_This Strange Effect_**

* * *

Totally ignoring the chill in the air, Kala was standing in front of a café table outside Fuel four days before Christmas, trying not to be sick as Jason and Giselle walked up to meet her, all the while giving each other puppy-dog looks of a revolting degree. Hazel eyes rolled up toward the overcast sky as she pulled her coat closer and wondered, for the millionth separate occasion since the holidays had begun, just how quickly she could convince Jason to ditch his clingy rebound.

Before she could even begin to formulate an excuse, her phone began playing _Für Elise_. That ringtone had always made her smile, even when Jason had complained about how corny it was. Now it was nearly manic in appearance. Speaking of her twin… Even while she took her phone out of her bag and flipped it open, she looked to see if her brother had heard that particular song. Nope, he was oblivious, so fixated on the Pink Princess of Doom that he wouldn't have noticed a line of chorus girls running down the street. _Unbelievable_.

For the moment, and for once in history, Kala considered it a bit of brilliant timing. Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help an evil grin to herself as she spoke. "KLK Enterprises, how can I help you?"

At the sound of the voice of the other end, Jason's twin grinned all the wider. "Kala, you are _so_ weird," Elise griped immediately, sighing with annoyance. "Like it wasn't odd enough the _first_ time. I can't believe you're still doing that after six months. I usually give this advice to boys, but you need a new line."

"Oh, well hello, darling," Kala said without a hitch, knowing just how she could play this off as Jason and the Ditz of Destruction approached. The fact that they were both acting googly-eyed and in love would just make this all the more fun.

Obviously, he was distracted, but not distracted enough to miss the happy purr in her voice. Before she could say anything more, Big Brother was at her side. "Who's that?" Jason asked. His arm was looped around Giselle's shoulders and a suspicious gleam lit his eyes.

_Too bad that Super-hearing isn't so hot for you, huh, Dopey? Wouldn't __**you**__ love to know?_ "None of your business," Kala replied loftily aloud. The effort to hold back her mirth hurt, but would be so worth it later. What Big Brother didn't know… "But since you asked, brother mine, it's my study date. We're discussing homework. Weren't we, dear?"

There was a pause on the other line as Elise realized what Kala was up to. "Oh my _God__!_ Kala! You are _sick_ and _twisted_. Why are you talking to me with him standing right there? What's _wrong_ with _you_?!"

"It's no big deal, sweetheart, it's just my brother and his little girlfriend," Kala soothed, never letting on that Elise's panic was making her hilarity even harder to hide. "And I'm sure _they_ don't mind, do you, Lizardboy?"

Jason thumped Kala's shoulder irritably, too polite to interrupt her conversation with a vociferous protest of that nickname. His scowl promised retribution later.

Elise finally laughed at that last, torn between horror and amusement. "It's bad enough that he doesn't know we've been talking, Kala. He's gonna kill you if he knows you're on the cell phone with me right now."

"He's nowhere near as overprotective as you think, honestly." Kala's tone was the vocal equivalent of spun sugar as she threw a bright smile over at the glowering Jason. "And no, really. _Really_. He's not the jealous type, either."

Elise was wheezing laughter by then, almost as if she could see the affronted look on Jason's face and the nauseated expression on Giselle's. After several false starts that ended with snickers, Elise managed, "Please tell me you're still coming over this afternoon and we're going over Mr. Carter's assignment for the break, right? You said the other night that you were still having problems."

This time Kala laughed with her. "Sure. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I have to do a little last-minute Christmas shopping on the way there, though." Thinking of that made her think of how she'd only had a cup of coffee and a bagel for breakfast. Stopping to consider how close this visit with Elise would put her to curfew tonight, she added a little wheedle to her tone. "But if you _really_ want me to come over to your place, order a pizza. Extra peppers and mushrooms. Me, Jason, and Daddy have plans tonight without my Mom, so I may miss dinner if we run late. I'll pay my half when I get there, okay? _Please_?"

"I swear you have two stomachs, Kala," Elise laughed. "Okay, fine. I'll order a pizza. And what happened to double pepperoni on every pie?"

She winced, remembering how badly she had wrecked her diet earlier this year. Thank God she had better self-control now. "That was then and this is now. I'm back on the wagon," she said just a bit defensively.

This prompted a bit more laughter on the other end of the phone. "Come on, Kala. You're vegetarian _again_? Isn't this the third time in, what, a year and a half?" Elise sighed and Kala just knew Elise was shaking her head at her. "Okay, fine, veggie pizza it is, but I'm putting sausage on my half. I'll let you go torment Pinky and the Brain."

Kala finally couldn't take it any longer and burst out laughing. "Oh, I missed you _so much_. We have to get together more often. Give me an hour and I'll be there." Still chuckling, she and Elise said their goodbyes.

Giselle was huddled against Jason's side as the snow continued to fall, glaring at her, but Jason just continued looking at her oddly. _Uh-oh, maybe I did this too well. Big Brother goes into Protective Overdrive. _ "Kala, who was that?" he asked with a worried frown.

Determined to keep up the charade, his sister made herself look as nonchalant as she could. "I told you, my study date. Why?"

"I just realized I can't remember the last time you went on a date," he said slowly. "Who _are_ you seeing these days, Kal?"

For a moment, the question froze her tongue. There hadn't been anyone interesting since … the birthday party? _That_ long ago? In other words, almost two months without a single date. At that thought, she heard her own voice taunting, _I wouldn't call this a __**date**__. _

That had been Nick, whom she'd run into right here at Fuel one afternoon – he had cut into line behind her and paid for her coffee, making some teasing remark about finally taking her out somewhere. She'd told him food was an essential part of a date, and he had nodded sagely. A few minutes later, he'd gone up to get a refill on his soda, and brought her back a veggie wrap. "Now it's a date," he'd said, and his grin was contagious.

Kala had laughed at him. Of course it wasn't a date, even though he'd sat down at her table and regaled her with stories about his philosophy teacher, who tended to wax poetic about Liebmann and Kant, often amusingly mispronouncing the latter's name. Even though they'd talked for two hours, and even though he'd paid for her meal and made a point of getting something he knew she would like, it wasn't a date. Because, well, she wasn't seeing him. Only that was a train of thought that led into murkier realms…

"I'm not seeing anyone at the moment," Kala told Jason disdainfully. "It's called 'playing the field', Jase, and it's how you make sure you're picking a winner instead of a loser. You really should try it sometime."

Giselle caught the commentary immediately, huffing. The look in those eyes was just murderous. Jason, however, was too intent on Kala at the moment to notice the slight. "So if you're not seeing anybody, who was that on the phone?"

Despite the fact that she had wanted him to question what she was up to, Jason rarely asked something quite that point-blank. "Your momma," Kala shot back disbelievingly.

That made Jason smirk at her in smug amusement. "Well, Kal, that would be _your_ mom, too," he said drolly, and Kala couldn't help rolling her eyes. Typical Dopey comeback. His persistence had been always annoying to her in situations like this, even when they were six and he just wouldn't stop badgering everyone for the origin of some completely random word or phrase.

"Yeah, thanks, Jase. I try and forget that, but neither you or Mom will let me." This third-degree of his was slowly starting to ruin all of her fun. Sighing, she gave him a look of long-suffering frustration. "Obviously you're going to badger me until I tell you. It was Sebast, okay? Who else do I call sweetheart and all that romantic nonsense?"

Jason couldn't see Kala's crossed fingers, and he accepted her explanation. Giselle looked dubious, but kept silent. "Well why didn't you just say so?" Jason asked.

Now it was Kala's time to smirk, well-pleased to have lulled him back into a false sense of security. "Because you're so _cute_ when you're frustrated," Kala cooed, reaching to pinch his cheek. Jason swatted at her hand.

Finally, it seemed like Jason's girlfriend couldn't stay silent any longer. "If you two are done being silly, can we _please_ go inside now?" Giselle asked, looking almost pleading. "I know neither of you gets cold easily, but I'm _freezing. Please? _" Kala had to grant her that; she had learned how to spot an incipient twin-squabble, and even if she couldn't ward it off, she could at least choose the venue. The three teens went inside, immediately enveloped in the smell of coffee and the riotous sound of the drum circle that was held every Tuesday night. Anyone who owned a drum – anything from a hand-held bodhran up to a set of bongo drums – was welcome to join the improvised jam session. Fuel would have been busier on Tuesday nights, as drumming was thirsty work, but the sheer volume of sound drove some of their patrons away.

Kala and Jason were both fascinated. The layers and patterns of sound were complex and enthralling, and Jason in particular liked to listen for that moment when the group – mostly enthusiastic amateurs – came together in rhythm. It was intriguing how they could fall into sync without any prior discussion. He knew from playing in a group at school how musicians could tune into the same wavelength, and it always felt sort of mystical to him.

Tonight, Kala barely listened to the exhilarating beat of the drums. She didn't even notice Giselle wincing as some overly-excited djembe player whaled on his drum out-of-sync. Kala's mind was too preoccupied by worrisome thoughts. She _had_ been seeing an awful lot of Nick lately. He was on the subway whenever Jason didn't accompany her home, he'd turned up at Fuel, and a week ago he'd been in the bookstore she frequented. _Stalking_ her?

Kala dismissed the idea as ludicrous. A lot of high school and college students hung out at the same places. Any place that sold used CDs, used books, or vintage clothing attracted teens and twenty-somethings the same way malls attracted preteens. Nick had probably been going there for years, and she only noticed him now because she knew him. Of course he wasn't stalking her.

Although his interest in her might be indecent, Kala knew she could handle him. He was just another boy, after all, and she'd been able to wind most boys around her little finger ever since her figure began to develop. The few who _weren't_ swayed by feminine wiles and were foolish enough to threaten her quickly fell to her old childhood tricks: a sharp kick in the ankles or knees, the unexpected head-butt, and best of all, the fake-out, where she feinted a knee toward her opponent's groin but punched him in the head while he crouched to protect himself. If Nick tried anything untoward with Kala, she would give him something to think about.

Grinning – she was quite proud of herself, knowing she'd never be taken unaware and helpless like the little six-year-old who'd been so easily trapped by Luthor – Kala leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the music. A couple of professional musicians were in the group tonight, and they along with a few talented amateurs began to coax the enthusiastic and disorganized group into harmony. Soon the music grew almost intoxicating, and Kala even felt generous toward Giselle. The pretty girl was curled up beside Jason, his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him with a trusting smile. Kala found that she could almost like Giselle, at least when she kept her mouth shut.

Kala's cell phone broke the moment. Its alarm was going off; if she wanted to meet Elise and go over their vacation homework, she had to leave now. Kala got up with a reluctant sigh and leaned over; with the noise level in here, she had to speak directly into Jason's ear for him to hear her. "See you later," she said loudly. "My study date summons me. And I have a little last-minute shopping to do before Dad takes us off tonight."

"Girls and shopping," Jason scoffed. He hugged her quickly, adding, "Take care, little sister." Kala wrinkled her nose at the familiar nickname and headed out.

…

Amid the flurry of shopping and packing for their trip out to Smallville in a few days, Lois managed to find a quiet moment to sneak into the study and get her laptop set up with her most recent findings. All of this had had to be done on the sly, seeing as how her husband had quite suddenly become a little too attentive. It just figured; she couldn't get him to spend enough time at home when she needed him there, but as soon as she was trying to keep something quiet, he was constantly underfoot. She just couldn't win lately.

And the information she was currently attempting to ferret out was of a very sensitive variety. It had taken some time to puzzle it out and she had made a concerted effort to keep changing servers, but she had found more than a few threads to gather. And some of her leads on L-Tech were too precious to ignore, even for the few days they'd be in Smallville. She glanced through her files and chose which ones to copy, also finding the internet links she'd need to transfer… _I've got you now, you son of a bitch_, she thought as she transferred the most recent updates off her mobile drive. _That's what you get for hiding in plain sight_. _If you hadn't started using Kryptonian technology on the public market, I might have let it go._

He made no sound, and Lois was only aware of his presence because the open door let a draft of cooler air into the room. She saw his shadow, not the man himself, and started to rise from her chair, but his hands were on her shoulders pressing her down. Acting quickly, Lois settled for snapping her laptop shut on her notes, heart racing as she craned her head back to stare up at the man standing over her.

His hands gripped her tense shoulders even as she stiffened, and Kal-El kneaded the taut muscles into relaxation. Unable to help herself, she let her eyes slide closed at his deft touch with a groan. Thank God for good reflexes. If she was lucky, he hadn't seen anything. "Damn near gave me a heart attack, sneaking in here."

Kal-El kissed the top of her head. "Perry told you he'd handle the heavy stuff until we got home, including any on-going assignments that hadn't been turned in. Why on earth are you working the day before vacation, hmm?"

That made her glance away at the study's far wall, feeling equal parts guilty and indignant. The guilt came from her decision to bring her contact information for Erik Eastlake along, just in case she could manage to squeeze more details on L-Tech and the processors out of him. Possibly draw out any knowledge of any other upcoming products the company was planning. Kal-El wouldn't understand at all; he was unreasonably jealous where Eastlake was concerned. True, the young investor _was_ a flirt, but he meant nothing by it. Lois was probably not that much younger than Erik's mother, little as she liked to think of it. But the spark of irritation came from his Emperor of Eavesdropping powers coming into play. "Just because the old man says it doesn't mean I hear it. And it's not like you don't know that about me. Working day, night, and on vacation is what got me a Pulitzer … _two_ Pulitzers, if you must know."

"Not as I recall," Kal-El murmured, still massaging her shoulders and moving to include her neck and back in his ministrations. "You can't relax even for a little while?"

She had to admit that it was rather difficult to stay furious with him when he was doing that. Heaving a deep sigh, she just let it go. He didn't know what she was up to; he didn't have to. Best to leave it be. She had plenty of time to catch up on her leads once they were in Smallville and he was distracted. Better than having him discover what she was up to. But she couldn't give in too easily or he'd suspect… "Comes with having the really rough job of being assistant editor, Mr. I'm-Only-Running-International. Despite what Richard leaves you to believe, I have double the work on your plate every day and I have to glad-hand a lot more than you do. _You're_ just lucky because Ron's staying here in town, hero."

He let the comment pass, his fingertips resting on her collarbone, thumbs working along the nape of her neck. "But, Lois, it's Christmas."

"Not yet, it's…" The dark-haired reporter started to protest, but he'd found that sweet spot on the back of her neck and pressed against it demandingly. Lois couldn't help her gasp or the way her pulse sped up as his hands slid down the front of her blouse, and he kissed her just behind her ear.

"Close enough for an early present." And with that phrase whispered in her ear, he was doing things with his mouth and hands that drove her current investigation far from her mind. There had been enough lack of his time at home to make it impossible to resist his advances. By the first shudder, Lois knew that getting back to what she was doing at any point this afternoon was a lost cause. The last thought that managed to linger was, _I can always boot the laptop back up when the twins get home…_

…

No seats were left on the subway, so Kala stood, fingers negligently wrapped around the handhold, swaying easily with the motion of the train car. For once, she was at peace with the world, the holiday spirit finally taking effect. She smiled to herself, thinking about the gifts she'd bought for everyone, how Kristin's face would light up when she opened hers, how Dad would beam at her proudly.

As the subway slowed to the next station, she caught a glimpse of Nick Powell waiting for the train. He was getting into a different car, and Kala impulsively turned and made her way down the train toward him, weaving through the crowds of people getting on and off.

Nick saw her as she squeezed past an elderly couple to get onto his car, and he grinned fiercely. "Kala!" he called, opening his arms and walking toward her as the train began to move. "My best girl!"

"I'm not your girl," Kala called back promptly, giving him a sassy smile. Something about the way he looked at her made her feel two inches taller and four years older, and she was unaware of the extra gleam in her eyes or the extra sway in her walk.

Nick, however, saw it and appreciated it. He met her midway and as Kala reached for a handhold, he rested his hand atop hers. "Good to see you, Kala," he murmured, the pair of them now oblivious to everyone else around. "I've been looking for you."

"Y'know, I was just wondering if you were a stalker," she replied merrily.

"Riight," Nick teased. "If I was stalking you, I'd know where you live by now."

"I told you, north of Washington and south of Toronto." Kala gave him a devilish smile, snickering.

"You're an incorrigible tease, you know that, Kal?"

Nick had only meant to flirt and flatter, but Kala's spine suddenly stiffened. "Don't call me that," she said sharply, yanking her hand out from under his.

Nick raised both hands in surrender. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think it would upset you."

"It's not that," Kala replied, already feeling foolish. The subway route curved, and she gripped the handhold again. Nick folded his fingers around with infinite gentleness, and she sighed. "Look, only Jason calls me Kal. It's a twin thing."

He nodded, squeezing her fingers lightly. "It's okay. How is your brother, anyway? I think I saw him the other day at the library, with his girl, what's her name?"

Kala sighed, but it wasn't as heavy as usual when talking about Giselle. Of course, everyone noticed someone like her brother's girlfriend, even if she was walking brain death. "That would be his pretty little nitwit Giselle. Black hair, perfect smile, skinny body?"

"I thought she was very good-looking, but of course, she has _nothing_ on you."

"And you're a flirt," Kala responded. "I hate her. Actually, I'm on my way to a study date with his ex."

"Ouch," Nick said. "Kala, are you actively trying to undermine your brother's relationship?"

"Hell yes," Kala replied promptly, rolling her eyes and then giving him a look like he wasn't too quick on the uptake. "She's just a rebound. He has _nothing_ in common with her, and nobody in the family likes her."

"You, especially."

"Me, especially."

Nick seemed lost in thought for a long moment before he finally said, "You know, Kala, I'd be willing to guess you've driven off all his other girlfriends, am I right? There was always some reason why they weren't good enough."

"Well, yeah," Kala said. "Except Ashlyn, but she wasn't really ever his girlfriend – they were always just friends, like it's been since we were little. And his ex, Elise. She was my friend too, before she ever noticed that Jason liked her. I tried chasing her off, but she saw right through me."

"Uh-huh." The blond young man just stared at her for a moment, considering what to say next. "So even the one you _like_, whose house you're going to right now in spite of the fact that she and your brother split up, even _Elise_ you tried to run off?"

"Yes," Kala answered slowly. The look in her eyes as she watched him was dubious. Suddenly this wasn't sounding so good. "What are you getting at, Nick?"

He bit his lip, looking at her thoughtfully. At last he put his free hand on her shoulder and said solicitously, "Kala, I think you and Jason should start seeing other people."

It took a moment for his meaning to come clear, and then Kala tipped her head back, her clear laughter ringing silver-bright over the noise of the train. "It's not like that, Nick!" she said, struggling to control her chuckling.

"I know, but the fact is, you won't let any other woman get close to him," Nick said. His use of the word _woman_ to describe her silenced Kala and recaptured her attention. "D'ya think you might be a little biased against these girls? I mean, no one can _ever_ take your place in his life. You're his _twin_ – in some ways you're closer to him than his future wife will ever be. The only other person who knows him like you do is your mom, and only because she carried the two of you. Even then, I bet there's things not even she knows."

Kala looked up at him, eyes wide. That much was true; she doubted Mom knew the whole truth about their shared nightmares, or Jason's crises of conscience over the death of Brutus. "But some things he doesn't share with me," she whispered, unaware of the fear in her expression. "Sometimes he acts like … sometimes I don't think I know him at all. I can't even begin to understand why he … why _Giselle…_"

"You do know him, sweetheart," Nick soothed, stroking her cheek. "He's your brother, your twin brother. And you probably already know he's still upset over the other girl, right? He's just being careless, trying to prove it didn't mean as much as it did. It's something guys do. I've been known to be pretty stupid when I couldn't get a girl I wanted. The good thing is, smart guys always come to their senses. And unless you got _all_ the brains in your family, he's a smart guy."

That made Kala smile at last, in spite of herself. "Thanks, Nick. It doesn't mean I _like_ her, but I guess I can put up with her until he comes to his senses."

"Atta girl."

Okay, his grin was utterly infectious, but that simple two-word statement sounded too much like something she'd hear from her parents after a pep-talk. Determined to change the subject, she quickly asked, "You said you were looking for me. Why?"

"To give you your Christmas present, of course," Nick said. He swung his book bag off his shoulder and searched through it, coming up with a card in a silver envelope.

"Nice color scheme," Kala commented as she opened it. The card within was black with a silver snowflake on the front. Just as she was about to open that, the subway car eased to a stop, so she and Nick waited as most of the passengers got off the train. They were almost alone as the train started up again, rumbling toward the last stop of the line.

Kala opened the card, and two things fell out into her hand. Her attention was already captured by the inscription, by Nick's neat, precise handwriting. _Merry Christmas to the loveliest lady I know,_ it read. _May the season be as bright as your smile, and may all your gifts be as delightful to you as your company is to me._

That wasn't what she'd expected; the flattery was, but the absolute lack of any reference to sex, no matter how veiled, surprised Kala. It sounded like a very heartfelt, and very grown-up, compliment. She smiled up at Nick. "That's very sweet," she said quietly, regretting that she hadn't bought him anything for Christmas.

"Very true. Now look at your gift."

Kala did so. She'd already guessed that one of the items that had fallen into her palm was a gift card. But then her eyebrows shot up and her hazel eyes widened. The amount was $50, and it was the card offered by the biggest bookstore in town, a chain that carried movies, music, and books, as well as having a café. In short, the perfect destination for Kala.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, giving him an impulsive hug before turning her attention to the other item that had been inside the card. A dried sprig of some greenery … _mistletoe_. Kala grinned at Nick wryly. "And just what do you call _this_?" she challenged, holding it up.

"I call it a suggestion as to what you can give _me_ for Christmas," he replied, and there was just enough humor in his eyes to convince her that he was only half-serious.

"Oh, really?" Kala eyed him, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. The few boys she'd kissed had been either nervous, inexperienced, earnest, or all three. None had actually made her feel the way poems and songs said a kiss should feel. But Nick was in college, far too old for her; the only reason she'd flirted with him was because she knew it would never go anywhere. Now she felt the first thrill of nervousness, something she hadn't felt about boys since she'd first realized how they stared at her. "And just what makes you think I'd kiss you?"

She was trying to challenge him, and she half-expected an arrogant answer along the lines of, _We both know you want to._ It would be true, but she thought she could brazen her way through a lie. To her surprise, Nick only smiled crookedly and answered softly, "The spirit of the season, maybe? Christmas wishes are supposed to come true."

That was just the right balance of sweetness and humility, and Kala glanced down almost shyly. "Well, since it's Christmas," she said, looking back up.

She saw the wistful look in Nick's eyes become serious, and he tilted her face up, leaning toward her. Kala let her eyes slip closed, lips parting slightly, and then he kissed her. Nick's arm slid around her waist, holding her close, and the rest of the world was falling away.

This wasn't like kissing a boy – none of the eagerness she was used to, none of the hesitancy, just a surety and strength that captivated her. At the same time, she began to feel the first tendrils of fear. Always before, Kala had been the one adored and pursued, the one in control of all her relationships, the one who walked away without a tear when each came to its inevitable end. Boys fawned over her, giving her anything and everything she wanted, and she had never really felt more than fondness for any of them.

Now, finally, she began to feel deliciously out of control, and wondered if this was love. If it was love, or even if it wasn't, she was at last vulnerable; she was the one who wanted and needed Nick, and not necessarily vice-versa. She shivered at the thought, at the nameless fear that crept up her spine, meeting the cool rush of excitement flowing down her nerves, thrilling from the way he kissed her. The two emotions mingled but didn't meld, each distinct from the other, and both heightened by the contrast.

When Kala drew back from him, her eyes were wide and perfectly frank, trembling with the riotous feelings of her racing heart. Above it all, though, she was conscious of the compliment he'd paid her time and time again, and she strove to contain her feelings, to behave like a lady and not the starry-eyed schoolgirl she was. She smiled slowly as the train came to a stop, and saw the first hint of something stronger than flirtation in his expression.

So maybe she was still in control; maybe, just maybe, Nick felt a great deal more than he let on, and like Kala herself he had masked his emotions in witticism. Maybe… No, it was best to leave this be for now, to get away to Smallville and be grateful for time to think about things. "Merry Christmas," Kala said, hoping she sounded mysterious, hoping to leave him wondering. She backed away, knowing this was the end of the line and he'd have to get off the train, too.

"Merry Christmas," Nick replied, and that confidence was in his smile again. She held her head high and laughed, used every ounce of advice gleaned from her theatre-major friends to make him believe that one kiss hadn't shaken her world to its foundations, and then turned swiftly to slip through the crowd and get away.

…

Elise opened the door for Kala and was startled by the other girl's appearance. A hectic blush warmed her complexion, and a wicked sparkle lit her eyes. "What've _you_ been up to?" she blurted out.

Kala laughed, and even that had a new, manic quality which Elise wasn't accustomed to hearing. "I'll tell you later," Kala promised. "Homework first, gossip second, or we'll never get anything done."

"Fine," Elise said as she led her friend to her room. "Let's do some algebra, then you can tell me what you've been smoking."

"I've been smokin' some matrices, baby," Kala joked, tossing her book onto Elise's bed. "C'mon, help me with this. I think Mr. Carter fried my brain yesterday."

"It's not hard," Elise said, and Kala scoffed. "I mean it! And it's just the even-numbered problems we have to do."

"Yeah, the ones _without_ answers in the back of the book," Kala muttered grumpily. They both opened their books and got out some paper, glad to have the same teacher even if they took the class at opposite times of the day. Soon the two girls were absorbed in their work, Kala complaining under her breath and Elise unable to keep from chuckling at her. The black-haired girl chewed her full lower lip after patient instruction, and then scowled as she tried a couple of problems on her own.

Elise, meanwhile, was painfully reminded of all the times she and Kala and Jason had studied together last year. Jason was great in science and better than average in math; Kala loved language and history; and Elise was a math whiz who also excelled at the sciences. Between the three of them, they could tutor each other in all the main subjects. Those long afternoons eating pizza and doing homework together, arguing this point or that, and sometimes Elise had wondered if this was what it was like to have siblings.

The two girls managed to thrash out the rest of the algebra homework, thankful to get it out of the way early so they wouldn't have to worry about it during winter break. They moved on to World History, which had been fascinating to Elise as long as they were talking about the ancient world, from prehistoric times up to classical Greece and Rome. Now her class was studying the Dark Ages, and it bored her. "Basically we had a bunch of unwashed people beating the crap out of each other with swords while carrying the plague until the Renaissance started," Elise said scornfully.

Kala laughed. "What about the notion of romantic love? That was invented during the medieval period. Most marriages were arranged, but the idea of courtly love had its origins in those times. People fell in love with those they could never, ever have with the blessing of the law or the church. Like Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde, Lancelot and Guinevere. That idea of courting someone – of writing poetry for the lady you loved, and receiving her handkerchief in return for daring feats on the tournament field, and singing love ballads under her window – began in those days. Before that romantic love was pretty much discounted; you married for the advantage of your family, and romance was a distraction. In the medieval period, though, it began to be celebrated. At least as long as you didn't get the king's wife or the duke's daughter knocked up."

Elise had listened to all that with slowly rising eyebrows. "Wow," she said. "Okay then. Kala, you _hate_ all that 'lovey-dovey romantic bullshit', to use your phrase. What's going on with you? What alien ate your brain?"

Kala burst out laughing, far louder than the comment required. Elise just stared at her, waiting for an answer. When the black-haired girl finally wound down to chuckles, she glanced at Elise again. "Sorry, you just… Nevermind."

"What's. Going. On." Elise enunciated each word slowly.

Kala bit her bottom lip. "Okay, fine. Let's make a deal. I'll tell you what's going on with me, if you tell me the truth about New Zealand."

"It's a big island with no dangerous animals," Elise replied dryly. "Contact the tourism board for more information."

Those hazel eyes swiveled deliberately over to Elise's desk just beside the bed they were sitting on, where an envelope lay propped against the keyboard. It was close enough that Kala didn't even need to use her Kryptonian vision to make out the return address on Armagh Street in Christchurch, New Zealand. She then looked back at Elise, and said, "Trade you. Tell me about your Kiwi pen-pal and I'll tell you who's making me giddy these days."

Elise had to think about it, but she finally leaned over and grabbed the envelope. "Deal," she said, and took out the letter to hand it to Kala. "Notice the signature."

Kala's fine black brows shot up. "_Grace?_ Either they name boys pretty weirdly in New Zealand, or you've switched teams."

"Or maybe there never was a summer romance," Elise said at last. "Maybe I lied to people. The truth is, I spent my vacation in New Zealand watching _Doctor Who_ on DVD with the girl up the road. Who, incidentally, is pretty darn cool. Her parents are talking about letting her come up here maybe next year – she says it'll be weird to have hot weather in July."

Kala flipped the letter lazily. "So why'd you lie?"

"You asked for the truth about New Zealand, you got it."

"I want the true reason why you told everybody you had a hot Kiwi boyfriend," Kala said. "Otherwise the only truth I'm gonna give you is that the guy who made me smile today isn't anyone you know."

"Devious," Elise grumbled. "Maybe I don't need to know more than that."

She was bluffing, and Kala knew it. "Look, if it's because my idiot brother started hinting about marriage at freakin' _fifteen_, I can handle that. I call him 'Dopey' for a reason."

Elise's jaw dropped and she stared at Kala wordlessly.

"If it makes you feel better, he's never said that to any other girl," Kala continued. "Including the idiot he's dragging around these days. Here's the deal: Daddy's old-fashioned. They had to wait a long time before they found each other, and even longer before they could be together. Jason likes you a lot, and he was just trying to make sure you … didn't … go anywhere." She winced. "Backfired on him, clearly."

"Kala, I'm not ready to talk about marriage or whose picture will be on my mantelpiece next to my kids' photos," Elise said. "I don't even know if I _want_ kids! He was light years ahead of me!"

"I know, I know," Kala replied. "I'm just trying to explain where Lizardboy's brain was. I'm not saying he didn't mean it to be later, like years from now. It's kinda his … placeholder. He's calling dibs, in other words. If you _do_ have kids, he'd like to be their dad."

"Okay, that made the original comment about four hundred percent creepier," Elise said. "'If you ever have children, I would like to be their father.' Great."

"Hey, I was just trying to say he _really_ likes you!" Kala protested. "He's not gonna kidnap you and drag you to the altar at gunpoint or anything. Gimme a break! See, this is why I never try to help him out."

"Because you make it worse?" Elise asked.

"No, because I'm too good to deal with teenagers," Kala said haughtily.

Elise's brows shot up. "What, you found your next date at the Octogenarians' Ball? Spill it, Elvira."

Kala had to stick her tongue out at that nickname. "I will – _if_ you promise not to tell anyone. Especially not Jason or Sebast."

"I'm not even talking to Jason," Elise began, and then stopped suddenly. "Whoa. _Sebast_ doesn't know about this? The hell, Kala! Sebast is… He's the Boris to your Natasha! What wouldn't you tell him?"

"Promise," Kala insisted.

"Fine, I promise," Elise said. "Cross my heart and hope to die. Now _dish_, dammit."

Kala leaned forward, her eyes alight with mischief. "His name is Nick Powell…"

…

She didn't often allow herself to nap in the afternoon, but unexpected exercise had left her drowsy. Lois rolled over in bed, stretching luxuriously. A slow smile curved her lips; just because she hadn't expected to be pulled away from her computer for lovemaking didn't mean she regretted it. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her only regret was to find herself alone in the bed, although she was sure he was still about somewhere.

Glancing over at the clock and seeing that afternoon was bleeding into evening, she couldn't help an amused chuckle. Not bothering to rise higher than to prop herself up on her elbow, she called out lazily, "Hey, Kal-El. You'd better gather up the kids and head north the moment they both get home. I don't want them out too late; we have to be up at an ungodly hour to take them to the airport."

His voice came back to her immediately as he suggested from somewhere up the hall, "You don't have to come with us, Lois. We all know that you hate early mornings. No one will blame you if you stay home and sleep."

"Not hardly," Lois scoffed, fighting off a yawn. "If they're going to Smallville two days ahead of us, I want every moment with them I can have. If there weren't a few loose ends to tie up here before the holiday and a few more presents to buy, all of us would be going together. I'm still not entirely happy with all of us being apart this close to Christmas."

Kal-El only chuckled. After ten years, he should've known better than to ask anyway. Things within the family were pretty stressful lately, everyone going in a different direction at all hours of the day, but that didn't change how she felt about them. Even with her mostly-MIA husband. The triumph she had been feeling only moments before began to cloud.

With him not being home nights very much recently, Lois felt more than ever like the proverbial doctor's wife. _Wonder why he's still spending so much time away from home, even if there is a whole damn __**League**__ of them trying to help with his duties? Could it have something to do with __**you**__, Lois? The way you've acted for the last few months, maybe?_ _Who could blame him? If you had a choice between saving the world and dealing with a vain, jealous, stressed-out shrew, you know what you'd choose._

Those thoughts brewed up emotions best left alone; thankfully the man in question interrupted her almost as soon as the frown started to spread over her lips. "Just so you know," she heard him say from just outside the door, "I absolutely adore how much you love the kids. You're the best mom on the planet, you know it?"

The comment was so far from her current train of thought; she had to pause to ruthlessly shove away her doubts. This wasn't the time to confront him on any of this. Not now, not this close to Christmas. Besides, what good would saying anything do? It's not as if anything could change. No, not after the result the last time she had wanted more. Nothing could come between him and The Mission; hadn't she learned that years ago? Lois opened her eyes to make a characteristic sarcastic remark, and saw him standing shirtless in the doorway with a mug of hot chocolate in each hand.

Even after ten years of marriage and her constant frustrations with him, she had to admit that he was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Maybe things would never again be the fairytale that they had been when they first married, but looking at him like this would always make her heart ache. Her eyes were wistful when he walked in, wishing desperately that she could stop this moment and hold it forever against the future. "Care for a drink, Ms. Lane?" Kal-El was using _that_ voice as if he truly could read her thoughts, the tone Lois could never resist, and he knew as well as she did that Kala and Jason wouldn't be home for another half-hour at least. This kind of attention was exactly what she needed…

…and she never stopped to wonder _why_ he was suddenly being so solicitous.

* * *


	12. I'll Be Home With Bells On

* * *

**Not cold, not cough, not awful and disgusting sinuses will stop me from posting my chapter! Now to enjoy another Christmas Eve with the Kents, though one different than the ones we've seen before...**

* * *

"I see you have both applied yourselves to the study of Kryptonian history," Jor-El said, "although your knowledge, Jon-El, is not as extensive as that of your sister."

Kala couldn't resist grinning at her brother, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Thank you, Grandfather," he replied evenly. "I shall improve."

_You'd better,_ Kala mouthed at him, and he had to stifle the urge to swat her – or laugh. They'd been speaking formal Kryptonese, what Kala liked to call the High Speech, for the past hour, and her sudden departure into English was a sharp contrast.

"Attend me, Kala Kal-El," Jor-El said. The use of her full name made the girl wince; it was worse than Jason being abbreviated into Jon-El. Lois hadn't known about Kryptonian naming conventions when she'd chosen Kala's name, but it was still an annoyance.

"We are in high spirits, Grandfather," Jason said, by way of explanation. "An important holiday draws near."

"Yes," Jor-El said. "This frenzy of rampant consumerism known as Christmas."

The English word sounded strange coming from him, particularly when both twins knew he could speak the language perfectly when he chose. Kala's head came up at that remark, her brow furrowing. "Grandfather, I think you may have drawn an inaccurate conclusion," she said. "Christmas means a great deal more than that."

"It is the consummate holiday of the American calendar," Jor-El replied, "and as such it is also logically the consummate reflection of American culture. Thus it comes as little surprise to me that this Christmas is celebrated with so much unbridled greed. After all, materialistic disregard for the consequences of one's actions is the defining note of much of human culture, but most particularly that of the nation in which you reside."

"You are wrong." Jason spoke clearly and distinctly, his chin lifted slightly and his blue eyes steely. "The defining note of American culture is not greed but _hope_. True, blind hope may become folly, as in the wastefulness of our people – we hope that the resources we use so recklessly may be endless, and when we begin to see that they are not, we hope that someone _else_ will rescue us, rather than making changes to our accustomed lifestyles. But when we are clear-eyed, it is our hope that the world can be a better place that drives us to our greatest feats. For if we were purely rational, we would see the world around us as it is, and we would despair.

"It has ever been so; this nation was founded upon the hope that the poor, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised could make something better of their lives here. The same hope that brought hundreds of thousands of immigrants to this land when it was wild and untamed, now gives us the strength to face our plight and attempt to save ourselves. And while there are many who dilute the true spirit of Christmas with their greed, it is also meant to be about hope. For a child, it is the hope that a longed-for toy may be wrapped up beneath the Christmas tree. But for those old enough to reason, the true meaning of the holiday is the hope that, if the past year has been a poor one, the next year will not be so. And if the last year was satisfactory, the new one will be better. Perhaps this will be accomplished by means of a savior, who comes to redeem us all from our folly and wickedness, but on that day each individual shares in the spirit of the holiday, and becomes for a little while one who brings joy and peace. For one day, we all strive to be the best of what we know we can become."

He could feel Kala staring at him, but Jason held firm, looking at the holographic image of Jor-El. Such eloquence was generally unlike him, but the Kryptonian elder had struck a deep chord in his essentially American soul. Never mind that he had been born in Paris, or that his father was not born on this planet at all. In his heart of hearts, he was defending not just his culture, but his mother.

"You speak well, and your point is duly made," Jor-El said at last. "It is true that these people have within them the capacity for greatness. But it disturbs me to hear you say 'we' and 'our' in reference to American culture. My grandson, you are not entirely human – this is only a part of your heritage."

"As are these lessons," Jason retorted. "I am not entirely Kryptonian, either, Grandfather. The same challenge my father faced, to reconcile his human upbringing with his Kryptonian legacy, is mine to face anew. In my case, it is not merely a matter of cultures, but of fundamental biology; I am part of both worlds in my very DNA. I can only hope I master it as well as he has."

"Jon-El, I ask you to consider your favorable bias toward humanity in this matter," the hologram said carefully.

"I will do so, Grandfather, if you will consider your negative bias toward them," Jason replied. "You are the one who so despised the notion of diluting the pure Kryptonian bloodline that you counseled my father to surrender his powers if he wished to marry a human woman. And yet, had he not defied you, you would not now be tutoring the heirs of the House of El, and there would be no one to carry your legacy onward past the name of Kal-El."

That seemed to surprise Jor-El; perhaps he hadn't considered that his son would tell the children the whole truth of everything that had happened around the time of their conception. After a long silence, in which the hologram looked thoughtful, Jor-El spoke again. "Perhaps you are correct, Jon-El," he said slowly. "I shall give the matter some thought. In any case, it is now time for your individual lessons. Kala, if you would like to practice your Kryptonese composition?"

Kala bit her lip, and Jason suppressed a grin. As much as she claimed to love the language, she _hated_ writing in it. All those intricate symbols didn't make it easy to write fluidly and swiftly, and she frequently complained about how laborious it was. So far Jor-El had firmly discouraged her attempts at developing Kryptonese shorthand.

"See you soon, Kal," Jason said, and she rewarded him with a quick grin on her way out the door. Then he was facing Jor-El alone, and Jason squared his shoulders. _I am Jon-El, scion of the House of El, the noblest of all the ancient houses of Krypton. So why do I feel so out of place and awkward before my grandfather?_

Jor-El regarded him thoughtfully. "We have long since passed the point of memory exercises, son of my son. Something weighs upon your mind; ask, and I shall do my best to answer."

All of Jason's silver-tongued lucidity seemed to desert him. "There is … an issue which concerns me," Jason said slowly. "But it is one which, I fear, you will categorically disapprove of."

"You mean to say 'one of which you will categorically disapprove,' I suspect," Jor-El said, unable to resist correcting his grandson's grammar. "What concerns you concerns me also. Please, speak."

Jason sighed heavily. This was _not_ going to go well. "It is about … my future."

Jor-El's eyebrows rose a little. "Jon-El, you have shown the desire and the aptitude to aid your father in his mission. Surely that is not the issue?"

"No, Grandfather, it is not," Jason replied, suppressing the urge to sarcastically announce he'd decided to run off with the circus. "Rather, I am considering my … personal life. I am worried about my search for a companion." He realized how dryly scientific that sounded, and amended with a chuckle, "I am sixteen years of age, Grandfather, and like many boys my age, I am thinking of girls. One in particular."

"Human girls?" Jor-El asked, startled.

"There are not many other kinds on this planet, Grandfather," Jason said.

"You know me well, Jon-El," the hologram said. "And you are already aware of my feelings on the continued intermarriage of the House of El with humans."

"I do not see another option, Grandfather," Jason replied quickly. "Only one Kryptonian woman is known to have survived the destruction of Krypton, and she was the ally of General Zod. In any case, she perished some years ago while attempting to escape prison." Deciding to drive his point home, he added, "The only other is Kala, and she is merely half-Kryptonian – and wholly my twin sister."

That gave Jor-El pause. It was unthinkable; Kryptonian society forbade marriage between first cousins or closer relatives. The advent of the birthing matrix had eliminated the occurrence of twins on Krypton, so he could not understand the depth of the bond between Jason and Kala, but he recognized that it was even closer than ordinary siblings. Unless some other survivor of the doomed planet could be found, Jason could never find a suitable Kryptonian wife.

Jason watched these thoughts flicker across Jor-El's face, waiting for the hologram's response. It wasn't unexpected. "There is the choice of celibacy."

"And let the House of El die out?" Jason asked.

"You ask me to choose whether my legacy should peter out until our blood is thinner than water and we are become mere mortals, or whether it should end abruptly with one in whom the greatest traits of our people are so clearly shown," Jor-El mused. "I am inclined to say that, since an end must come to the House of El as I know it, I would choose to end it in glory rather than merely allow it to trickle away."

"Is there truly no glory in joining our fate once and for all to the destiny of our adopted planet?" Jason countered.

"Tell me, then, why you are so convinced of your need to marry into humanity," Jor-El said. Jason sighed; when the hologram abruptly took a different tack like that, he was feeling pressed, and would likely grill Jason relentlessly until the original point was lost. _I guess asking Grandfather about girls __**was**__ pretty stupid,_ he thought, as he mustered his arguments. _Considering that there was no sex on Krypton, and virtually no touching – the amount of hugging and handshaking and backslapping that goes on at school would permanently traumatize Jor-El – he may not be the best person to go to for advice. But then, he __**did**__ ask what was on my mind._

And it was little surprise that Giselle was on his mind. She'd been deeply disappointed about not coming to Christmas in Smallville, especially since she'd already missed the family celebration at Thanksgiving. After some persistence, Jason had managed to finagle an invitation for her to the New Year's Eve party at the Lane-Kent penthouse. _Kala_ was allowed to go out clubbing with Sebast, provided she got home by midnight, so it just made sense for Giselle to come over. Even better, with Kala not home, there wouldn't be any quarreling between his girlfriend and his sister. All in all, a perfect New Year's Eve.

Jor-El paused, and Jason quickly returned his attention to their conversation.

…

Kala's individual lessons had been shorted – as usual. But then, since Jor-El refused to discuss the heroic stuff with her and learning about Kryptonian womanhood from a man seemed counterproductive, she didn't exactly miss it. Although, she _did_ resent the way the hologram lavished attention on Jason; she was by far the better scholar in all things Kryptonian, yet she never received praise unless it was to motivate Jason to catch up to her.

Still, there was one thing about trips to the Fortress that never failed to please her. The moment Kal-El returned from his evening duties, she took her leave of Jor-El and raced out into the Fortress' grand hall.

Jason was already putting on his gloves, getting ready for the flight home. Kala raced up to her father, eyes agleam, and said one word: "Please?"

"Oh, _no,_" her brother groaned. "No way. I am _not_ riding through that again."

Kala looked heartbroken at that, and Kal-El sighed. "Kala, it isn't fair to ask that of your brother."

"Didn't you already say we were getting a little too much to fly together?" Kala asked cunningly. "Not weight-wise, but having to manage two people on a long flight. It's not as if two trips would take much longer than one."

"Pushy," Jason muttered. "Kala, I don't want to wait up here while you go make a fool of yourself."

"Fine, chicken, you can have the first flight home," Kala replied sharply. She turned a winning smile on her father before adding, "Please, Daddy?"

"All right," he sighed, and held out a hand to Jason. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but he went without further commentary.

That left Kala all alone in the Fortress. She knew her father would be back soon, but couldn't resist strolling around a bit, imagining what it would be like to come here on her own, whenever she wanted. Wasn't this place part of her personal history as well? Maybe one day, when she was older, she could come and listen to poetry in Kryptonese, or pore over the history of the doomed planet.

The Fortress echoed with Kal-El's footsteps when he returned. "Jason says I spoil you," he told her.

"He's just too chicken to go solo and hates admitting it," Kala replied. She hurried to her father's side and held tightly to his arm as he spiraled up through the Fortress' interlocking-crystal roof and into the Arctic sky. Higher and higher, until the stars seemed close enough to touch and the world was a blue-white blur below, the air so thin and cold it burned Kala's lungs to breathe it. She looked out, not down, thrilling to the distant curve of the horizon and the inky darkness of the night sky. _This, oh, this, for this I would do anything, bear anything, learn anything, for this beauty and glory that only the few of us know, those who can fly and those lucky enough to be their passengers._

"Ready?" Kal-El asked softly, smiling at her. He knew how she felt up here; the same wild joy that made her eyes gleam had to be racing through his veins.

Kala nodded her assent, too excited to speak, and Kal-El let go of her hand. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slid her hand out from the crook of his arm.

It was like a sudden gust of wind, at first. The sense that she was falling, faster every second, came only after she opened her eyes again. Gently, Kala let herself lean forward, and her fall slowed a little as she moved into the typical skydiver's position with maximum surface area. For a little while, she could almost believe she was flying.

The steady loss of altitude proved her wrong, of course. Rather than simply fall down on her belly, she shifted her center of gravity further forward. Now Kala was falling headfirst, arms back behind her, and she went faster with less surface area to slow her down. _This_ was what flying was like, all power and speed, the slightest gesture of one hand altering her course through the cold air. The sole difference was that she could only go down.

She tried making herself to level out and accelerate; closed her eyes and focused all of her considerable willpower on one object: a moment of true, unaided _flight_. It wasn't a muscular thing, Dad had told her that much, but her shoulders tensed and her legs trembled from the mental effort she was making. One second, one instant, to pull herself out of the steep dive…

It never came; it never had. Of all the powers Kryptonians possessed on Earth, Kala wanted this one the most, and so far she hadn't shown an inkling of it. Her father had had all of his powers, though in reduced intensity, by his late teens, and the window for Kala and Jason to develop new ones was narrowing.

_Oh well,_ she thought, stretching out her arms and letting the cold air buffet her. _I can't fly __**yet**__, but for now there's this, and I love it._ While few sane people would define 'fun' as plummeting toward the Arctic tundra at something over a hundred miles and hour, Kala found it exhilarating. But even she began to notice that the ground below was looking quite a bit _closer_ than it had the last time she'd done this.

"Daddy?" she called, the wind tearing the words from her mouth. He usually caught her far above the ground, farther up than this. Kala could see hills below her now, and called louder, "Daddy!"

No answer. Fear tried to creep up her spine, but she forced it away. Her father was _Superman_. He could fly almost as fast as the speed of light. There was simply _no way_ he'd forget about her and let her fall. Not possible. Not unless something really bad happened to him…

The fear came roaring back, and Kala shuddered, trying to look over her shoulder. Where _was_ he? _Had_ something happened? And if it had, why hadn't she seen or heard anything? She couldn't have been that drunk on speed… And on the low hills below her, Kala could actually make out the tracks of a polar bear across the snow. "_Daddy!_" she screamed.

Trying to look around had unbalanced her, and Kala was tumbling through the air instead of diving straight down. The earth and sky seemed to flip past each other, the ground getting closer and closer and…

…suddenly zooming along, a strong arm around her waist, and the snow mere yards below. Kala heaved a sigh of relief and twisted around to glare at her father. "I thought you forgot me!"

"I didn't forget you," he told her, smiling as they rose skyward again. "You always say you want to fall for a long time, so I let you do that."

Kala scowled, but the fear had worn off, replaced by elation. She couldn't help grinning at her dad. "Nice catch," she said at last. "But next time, wait another fifteen feet or so."

Kal-El groaned. "I was _hoping_ you wouldn't want me to drop you anymore after this, Kala."

She only shrugged and leaned against his shoulder. "I guess that's enough for one day. Thank you. You're the best daddy ever."

"And you're the most spoiled-rotten little girl ever," he teased back gently, and flew her home.

…

In order to be at the airport early enough to go through security, the Lane-Kents had to leave the house at four in the morning. Kala had been bright-eyed and chatty at three in the morning, while Jason lumbered around like a hibernating bear that had been rudely awakened. Both of them were already packed, however, and got dressed and ate breakfast in a reasonable time. At five minutes to four, the whole family was in the car, with Bagel snuffling at the front of her carrying bag as Clark drove the Audi out of the parking garage. Lois merely sipped coffee and tried to keep her eyes open, letting him pilot her car for once.

Clark and Lois talked a little about the next couple days, the things they both needed to accomplish at work before they left on vacation. Actually, Clark was doing most of the talking, Lois mainly just nodding in the right places while she waited for the caffeine to seep through her.

After a while, Lois turned to glance into the backseat to check on the kids. Jason and Kala had both been noticeably silent. One glance made Lois smile warmly, her hand stealing to the locket she wore. "Clark, look," she whispered.

He glanced into the rear view mirror. Jason had fallen back asleep braced against the door, and Kala's initial wakefulness had ebbed away. She was now leaning on her brother's shoulder, snoozing with her legs curled up on the seat. "Do you remember when they were little enough that they'd both curl up on the same side of the car?" she whispered, watching them.

"I remember," Clark murmured. "I remember having to carry them out of the car and put them to bed like a couple of oversized dolls."

"When they were ten," Lois quipped, and they both chuckled.

"Do you remember the time we told them to be quiet and not bother us for an hour unless someone was bleeding, and we forgot to turn the thermostat up?" Clark asked softly. "They got chilled, snuck into our room, and borrowed my cape."

"Before we made the false back in the closet for your uniforms," Lois remembered. "I wish I could've taken a picture of them wrapped up in the cape, asleep on the couch."

"With our luck, someone would've found it and published it," he replied.

"True," Lois sighed.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, both parents glancing into the backseat to see if the twins intended to wake up anytime soon. They both slept until the car was parked, when Bagel's chuffing woke them. "We're here?" Kala asked blearily.

"Fi' mo' mints," Jason grumbled, thinking he was still in bed at home.

"C'mon, son, we're at the airport," Clark said. With a little encouragement, he and Lois got the kids woken up and out of the car. Jason had reverted to his sleepy-bear shamble, while Kala managed to summon a little wakefulness, even if she did yawn prodigiously several times. Clark helped them with their luggage, and Lois walked ahead of the group with Bagel's carrier, looking for Lana's red hair. The terminal wasn't crowded this early, and if anyone in the family would be bright-eyed at this hour, it would be Lana. She, Richard, and Kristin were supposed to accompany the twins to Smallville…

Lois eventually spotted a gleam of bright auburn, but it was Kristin, being carried by Richard. The reporter laughed, seeing that the little girl had simply rested her head on her father's shoulder and fallen asleep that way. At his feet rested another carrier like Bagel's, and in it was Dusty, bright eyes watching the forest of legs around him. Walking up to her former fiancé, Lois couldn't help teasing, "Red's refusing to be seen in public with you again, and from the looks of things you had to tranquilize Little Red to keep her around. Richard, your luck with women really is awful."

She expected him to joke back, but he just sighed heavily. "Yeah, right," Richard replied. "Lana got called back to Italy this morning. Some huge emergency with the company. She'll fly in to Smallville as soon as it's over, but it'll probably be Christmas Eve before I see my wife again." He glanced past Lois to grin roguishly at Clark. "Mind if I borrow yours?"

Clark just smiled, sliding an arm around Lois' shoulders affectionately while she swatted at Richard, laughing. "I don't think so, Richard. Lois is staying right here in Metropolis with me."

"Wait a minute, you're going to deal with all three kids and two dogs _by yourself_ on the flight out?" Lois asked. "At an hour when we both know you're more likely going to bed than waking up?"

"Hell no," Richard replied instantly. "I'm going to sleep on the flight out and let Jason and Kala take care of Kristin."

Lois looked over at her kids; Jason was swaying slightly on his feet, eyes open just enough to make him look like a deranged zombie, and Kala was yawning again. "You wanna rethink that plan, flyboy?" Lois asked.

Richard surveyed them, and shrugged. "What the hell. We'll all sleep. Even if the little one wakes up, it's not like she can really _go_ anywhere."

"As long as I don't have to explain to Lana why the flight crew wants to adopt her baby girl," Clark said warningly.

"Don't worry, we'll be okay," Richard said. "I promise."

They decided to take him at his word, and everyone exchanged hugs and the occasional kiss before Richard headed off down the concourse with still-sleeping Kristin in his arms, the twins following. Lois leaned against Clark, watching them get into the line for security with a slight frown, and she was holding the locket again without being aware of it. She sighed, and Clark slid his arm around her shoulders. "We'll be there with them in two days," he reminded her.

"I know," she murmured. "I just…"

Whatever she meant to say was cut off by Kala turning around, walking backwards for a few steps. She waved to them and put both hands to her lips, blowing extravagant kisses the same way she had when she was about five years old. Jason turned too, waving, and almost shyly blew a kiss to Lois.

Biting her lip, Lois pretended to snatch those kisses out of the air, and pressed her palm to her cheek. Both teenagers laughed, and then they turned the corner behind frosted glass.

Clark hugged Lois, kissing her temple. "It's okay," he said. "You're being silly and you know it, love."

"I know," Lois said quietly.

"Let's go home," he murmured, nuzzling her hair. "You can go back to bed for a while … I might join you for a bit, then I'll go take care of the rest of the world."

Lois yawned again, feeling the effect of too little sleep and too little coffee. "Sounds like a good idea to me, hero," she replied.

…

Jason and Kala had fallen back asleep at Martha's house, the pair of them tumbled into one bed with their suitcases still unpacked. They slept until almost noon, jet-lagged and confused by the shockingly early start to their day. Only the smell of lunch cooking roused them, and Martha laughed at their appetites. Even knowing that they'd skipped breakfast, the kids ate comically huge portions. Their grandmother understood the Kryptonian metabolism, however, and planned meals accordingly.

After lunch, Martha let the pair head into town, admonishing them to take their coats. Jason and Kala gave her especially long hugs before going out to wander, looking for old friends and visiting the stores. Soon they were in town, surrounded by Smallville residents who'd known them since they were six. They seemed to be attracting more than the usual number of stares, and Jason could guess why.

Kala had always favored dark clothes, but since the summer she had been wearing almost all black. Her style was very elegant, and the immediate family had gotten so used to that quirk of hers that none of them really noticed anymore. At school, well, she was just another Goth kid. Black velvet, black lace, high-heeled boots, and a preponderance of silver jewelry were almost normal at arts school. But out here, where jeans and plaid would never go out of fashion, she stuck out like a black cat in a pack of hounds. Even her coat was an ankle-length black duster she'd found in a thrift shop, and it looked like a prop from some gangster movie set in the 30's.

People were flat-out staring at his sister in surprise and dismay, and Jason cringed inwardly. Not for their opinions – she could dress however she wanted, so far as he was concerned, and anyone who got themselves worked up over mere fashion was a fool in his estimation – but for Kala's ego. Jason, at least, knew that the bossy, brash girl who projected confidence at megawatt levels could be easily wounded by the opinions of others. And from the way she had pressed her lips together in a thin line, she was feeling like an outsider.

Before Jason could think of some way to distract her, Kala announced, "I think I'll go in the general store and get some rock candy." She didn't wait for his response, just rushed off, and he grimaced. That was just like her, too. When she felt threatened, Kala tended to go on the offensive, and right now she was deliberately confronting the store's hangers-on, perhaps the most staid members of the community.

Jason didn't have long to worry about her, though. "Hey, city boy!" a voice jeered. "Betcha you throw like a girl!" A snowball flew through the air and whacked his back.

He whirled and snatched up a handful of snow, flinging it with keen accuracy. Dustin looked quite comical with a face full of snow, and Jason laughed as he went to help his friend brush the clinging frost off. "Betcha I don't," he replied, thwacking Dustin's shoulder affectionately. "How's it going?"

"Great!" the brown-haired boy replied. "I'm A-B honor roll so far this year, and Dad gave me a raise on my allowance for it. Wade's letting me help out at the garage after school, too. How about you?"

"Pretty decent," Jason said. "I'm going with a new girl, Giselle. Here's her picture…" He pulled the photo out of his wallet and showed it to Dustin.

The other boy whistled appreciatively. "Hey now, she's … _gorgeous_!" he exclaimed. "What'd you do, hypnotize her?"

Jason punched his shoulder, glowering in mock-anger, and the two boys dissolved into laughter. Dustin managed to get his breath back first, and asked, "Speaking of girls, where's your sis…ter… Oh."

Kala was just walking out of the general store, and Jason remembered Dustin hadn't seen her since she went into Goth overdrive. Her shoulders were back, her head held high, and Jason knew that queenly stride and imperious glare meant she'd evidently found the confrontation she sought. Dustin's jaw actually dropped, and he could only stare as she walked up to them.

Jason saw the splinter of hurt in Kala's expression, but she'd composed her features into a superior mask. "You act as though you've never seen a girl before," she said coldly, staring right at Dustin.

"Get the reindeer out from up your butt, Kal," Jason snapped.

She turned that arctic glare on him, but he didn't back down, trying to will her to come to her senses. Didn't she realize how that one sentence had hurt Dustin's feelings? The other boy was taken aback by her attitude, looking wounded, and he was their oldest friend in Smallville.

It might've ended badly, but just then a high voice called out, "_Kala! Jason!_" The three teenagers whirled to see Kristin pelting up the sidewalk, a manic grin on her face in spite of the fact that she'd only seen them a few hours ago when she and Richard left for the Lang house. Kala's supercilious façade broke at once, and she laughed as Kristin leaped into her arms. Twirling the little girl around, Kala teased, "You are the silliest little sister ever, Little K!"

Kristin just laughed, throwing her arms around Kala's neck. "Eskimo kiss!" she demanded, sticking her nose out. Kala dutifully rubbed noses with her, still chuckling.

"Hey there, Kristin," Dustin said, smiling tentatively at Kala. The black-haired girl actually had a smile for him, and Jason quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Once Kristin had been hugged and kissed by all three, Kala gave her a stick of rock candy. By that time Richard had caught up with them. "I swear, Kala, one day someone's gonna see you with her and ask who the daddy is," he joked.

"And I'm gonna say she's my sister, not my daughter, and to mind their own d…darn business," Kala sighed. "Hello, Daddy."

He reached out and tweaked her nose gently. "Easy on the language, kidlet," Richard warned, provoking a grumble from Kala over the nickname. He turned to the boys and asked, "Hey, Dustin, did these two tell you they're gonna be here through Christmas?"

"Not yet," Dustin replied, "but that's the best news I've had today." He smiled shyly at Kala again, his motives utterly transparent, and Jason groaned.

…

Clark and Lois had spent their last two days in Metropolis finishing up the shopping and packing, as well as getting everything shipshape at work for Perry to oversee during the holidays. Most of the gifts would remain at the penthouse until Christmas Eve, and they planned to take just one carry-on bag as luggage, which Clark could easily carry. Jason and Kala had taken the main bag with them, since as Lois liked to joke, Kal-El Air didn't take cargo. Still, the carry-on bag would be enough to convince Ben Hubbard that they had actually taken a commercial airline when he and Martha met them at the Kansas City airport.

Mid-afternoon of the day they were supposed to leave, Lois went to get her files for the editorial she intended to write on vacation, and discovered they weren't in her briefcase. Not in her purse, or on her desk, or anywhere else in the house. Clark heard the muttered profanity of the search and came into the study cautiously. "Lois?"

"I must've left my freakin' notes at work," she snapped, shoving her hair back off her face. "Stupid! Now I have to go all the way back to work and we need to leave soon so we can meet Ben and Martha at the airport…"

"Where do you think the notes are in your office?" he asked. "I can go up there and get them for you."

Lois bit her lip; even after all these years, she tended not to just assume Clark would use his powers for her convenience. It never failed to surprise her when he offered, and such simple acts strengthened the sense of wonder and amazement that not even a decade of familiarity could erase. "Should be on my desk, but they could be on the couch, too," she replied. "It's the stuff about the water-use numbers for this year, and the ecology notes on Hob's Bay."

"Be right back," he told her, and was gone.

Moments later, Clark walked into the bullpen, waving to Jimmy. "I thought you were on vacation," the photographer called.

"Lois forgot some notes," Clark replied with a shrug. "We'll be leaving for the airport as soon I get back from here."

"Lucky," Jimmy said. "Tell Lois I said to have a great Christmas."

"I will, if you'll take your own advice," Clark said, grinning. "Give your mom our regards, Jim, and tell your girlfriend we both said 'Merry Christmas', too."

"Will do," Jimmy replied.

Clark turned away from his friend to walk into Lois' office, only to see another young man standing in front of her door. _Eastlake_. The parallels struck Clark; Eastlake was several years younger than Jimmy, but they were close enough in age to remember the same popular songs and television shows. And Jimmy admired Lois; he'd been sending her a white rose and an anonymous card on Valentine's Day for almost two decades now. The difference was, Clark had known about Jimmy's schoolboy crush ever since they met; he and the young photographer had often sighed over the perpetually-unattainable Lois Lane back in the old days. Clark had managed to win her, though, and Jimmy was ever a gentleman – he had been genuinely happy for her and Clark when they got married, and he was Lois' friend first and foremost.

The investor, on the other hand, barely knew Lois and was already flirting with her. Clark was predisposed to dislike him on another count as well; where Jimmy had worked his way up to his current status as Head Photographer over nearly twenty years with the _Daily Planet_, Eastlake had inherited all of his wealth and status from his father. He likely didn't understand working and striving for things, and that made Clark wary of him. People who expected life to just hand them whatever they wished for were often lazy and sometimes dangerous; they could be easily angered if balked.

For now, though, he intended to be pleasant to Eastlake, if only because it would shorten their encounter. "Good afternoon, Mr. Eastlake, can I help you?" Clark said.

"I was actually looking for Mrs. Lane-Kent," the younger man said, and for an instant Clark felt his temper flare at such impertinence. In the next moment, though Eastlake was holding up a folder and saying, "I brought her the information she asked for about the computers; I know some people in the business and I might be able to get her a good deal when the _Planet_ upgrades its servers."

"She won't be in today," Clark told him. "We're leaving tonight to spend Christmas at my mother's place in Kansas." Erik looked a little crestfallen, and Clark watched his face closely as he continued, "She happened to leave some files here, and I'm just getting them for her. If you like, I can take that folder to her as well."

If the younger man had looked the least bit startled or nervous, Clark's suspicions about his intentions would have increased exponentially. But the investor just grinned. "Sure, thanks, Mr. Kent. That'll be great," he said, handing Clark the folder. "Tell her to check out the storage capacity these new servers can handle – it's phenomenal, and twice as fast as anything on the market now."

"I will," Clark said, and shook his hand, feeling relieved. "Thank _you_, Mr. Eastlake."

The investor smiled, and then added one more remark. "You know, Mr. Kent, you really do have an amazing wife."

Clark increased the pressure of his handshake just the tiniest amount; not enough to be uncomfortable even, just a trifle firmer than usual, for emphasis. "I do know that, Mr. Eastlake. I know it very well."

With that taken care of, he headed out, stopping by his friends' desks to wish them merry Christmas. Notes in hand, Clark got on the elevator, but Superman flew across town to make a rapid and unseen landing at the penthouse. Lois was on the phone when Clark came in, and he caught part of her conversation. "Well, you should've let me in on this… Of course I'll keep mum! And enjoy planting a few red herrings in his path… Gotta run, my flight's here. Yeah, love you too, Red."

"That was Lana?" Kal-El asked, handing Lois the notes.

"Mm-hmm," she replied, looking through the information.

"So what's up?" It was a reasonable question, he felt.

Lois, however, didn't seem to agree. "None of your business, Super-Nosy," she retorted, then grinned. "It's a surprise, and I promise you'll know everything by tomorrow. Does that help?"

"It does," Kal-El told her. "Are you ready to fly?"

"With you?" she asked, and her voice dropped to a purr as she reached for him. "Always."

…

"Did they get lost?" Jason wondered for the fifth time. He was cradling a very sleepy Bagel, who'd spent the day racing around with all her relatives and now snored in his arms.

"No, they probably stopped to save the world," Kala retorted, stamping her feet. It was just a _little_ too cold for her out there without a coat, but she wouldn't go back inside and get one, certain that her parents would arrive while her back was turned. Shaking his head, Richard brought one of the heavy parkas out with him when he joined their vigil, slipping it over Kala's shoulders wordlessly. She grinned up at him, murmuring, "Thanks, Dad."

Jason huffed under his breath, and Richard put an arm around his shoulders, hugging the tall boy. "They'll get here," he insisted. "It's a lovely night – they're probably admiring the stars. Look, you can see the whole Milky Way."

"It's Christmas Eve," Jason said, "and we can't start the bonfire until everyone's here. It's tradition."

Richard sighed, and patted Jason's arm. "Well, _everyone_ isn't gonna be here this year, son."

"You mean Nana?" Kala asked softly, her breath smoking in the cold air. Those strange hazel eyes were so vulnerable that Richard reached out and drew her to him as well, kissing her forehead.

"Ella…" he began, and chuckled. "Well, she's probably watching over us, wondering why we're all freezing our toes off when we can see them land from inside. No, she's not far at all. And your aunt's staying with Ron and the kids at his family's Christmas." He didn't need to add the reason: there had been many Christmases with Ella in Smallville, and Lucy would find the season less shadowed by grief back in Metropolis. Ron's parents adored her, and even the disapproving sister would be polite on the holidays.

"Then who?" Jason asked. "Grandpa Ben? He's right up the road at his old farm with his sons and their families."

Richard sighed. Bagel had awakened, and she stretched her muzzle toward Richard, finding the tiny bit of bare skin between his sleeve and his gloved hand. She licked his wrist, large brown eyes staring up at him sympathetically. "Silly mutt," he whispered, brushing his fingers over her muzzle. To the kids, he said, "Lana won't be here for Christmas. She called while you guys were out here; there's no way she can leave Italy right now."

"Aww, that _sucks!_" Kala complained. "She can't even get a flight in tomorrow and go back the next day?"

"The way things are going, I'll be lucky if I see her before New Year's," Richard said. "And it's our anniversary. Our tenth. The traditional gift is tin, the modern one is diamonds – I got her an antique tin box shaped like a heart and put a diamond ring in it." He shrugged. "Now she won't get that _or _her Christmas present until probably January. Life happens."

"Dad," Jason sighed, putting the dog down to hug him. "That really blows."

Kala hugged him too, and Richard let the kids hold him up for a moment. _You're not gonna be alone for Christmas,_ he told himself sternly. _You've got almost your whole family here – and it just so happens, everyone who knows the truth about Clark and the twins will be here tonight. Everyone but the one person you need the most._ He cut off that line of thought before he got maudlin, kissing both twins. "Hey, guys, it happens," he said. "This is the kind of noble sacrifice a millionaire's boy-toy has to make."

Jason groaned and Kala made retching noises. "Please don't ever say that again," she pleaded. "It's just … urgh. That was gross ten years ago, and it's grosser now. It became _supremely_ gross when we were old enough to know what it meant."

Richard smirked. "Hey, I _like_ being her boy-toy," he protested, and Jason pretended to collapse in disgust. "You'll understand when you grow up."

Kala snorted amusement, and further hilarity was prevented by Bagel's high-pitched bark. The little dog was staring up at the sky, her tail wagging madly. Richard couldn't see anything yet, but Kala and Jason both had better vision. "Dad!" they yelled in unison.

The next moment, Superman was drifting to a graceful landing, Lois in his arms. The romantic picture of their arrival by moonlight was slightly spoiled by the carry-on bag slung over Lois' shoulder, but Richard couldn't help grinning. In moments, Clark was changed, the bag was stowed inside, and Martha came outdoors bundled up in her warmest coat.

Lois had hugged and kissed the twins first, and she was now standing next to the huge pile of dead wood and dry corn husks. "C'mon, Laser-eyes, light it up!" she called. "I'm freezing my ass off!"

Richard couldn't help it; he was standing closer, and smacked her rump. "Nope, still there," he replied casually, and then yelped as Lois smacked him. Everyone else just rolled their eyes at the pair, until Clark cleared his throat.

"If you two are done?" he said gently, smiling at them both. Once he had everyone's attention, he looked at the bonfire – that peculiar look of intense concentration.

A crackle, then the first tongues of flame sprang up. The dry wood caught easily, and soon they had a roaring bonfire. Richard grinned; something about a good fire always seemed to warm the heart. And even if Lana wasn't going to be here, and Kristin was asleep at the Lang house, it would still be a good night.

Martha was handing out long skewers and marshmallows. "Who wants to read _The Night before Christmas_?" she asked.

Kala had thrust her marshmallow directly into the hottest part of the fire, letting it catch on fire and then blowing out the flames. She wolfed it down, blackened crust and all, and shook her head to indicate that she'd read the poem last year.

It should've been Lana's turn, as Richard suddenly remembered, but Lois was reaching for Martha's copy. "I'll do it," she said, to everyone's surprise. She'd been known to scoff at reading poetry aloud, but not tonight.

While she reread the poem quickly to familiarize herself, Clark patted Richard's shoulder. "You know, if it's really bothering you, I could go get her. She'd be back in Italy tomorrow with none the wiser."

Chagrined that his expression had given his loneliness away, Richard smiled wanly. Before he could say anything to that generous offer, though, Lois interrupted. "Clark? Remember what Lana said about wanting a seat belt if she's gonna fly? I don't think she'd be up to a trans-Atlantic night flight on Kal-El Air."

"She's right," Richard sighed. "_You_ married the adrenaline junkie, Clark, I picked the millionaire. If it doesn't have reclining seats and an in-flight gourmet meal, Lana's not comfortable. I'll be okay."

Clark looked over at Lois for a moment, and Richard wondered what he saw in her expression to make him look so confused. But then the taller man shrugged. "If you say so."

The twins had noticed too, and Kala came over to give Richard a hug. "I love you, Daddy," she told him, with the slightly crazed smile that always reminded him of her at six years old.

"Love you too, Munchkin," Richard replied. "Now come on, I want to hear your mother's rendition of a Christmas classic."

Lois cleared her throat and began, "T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house – not a creature was stirring, not even a freakin' lizard, thank God…"

"Mom!" Jason yelped. "Gazeera's not even here to defend himself!" While the dogs had flown along on this trip, the iguana and ferret were being watched over by Michelle Troupe, who was delighted to pet-sit.

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care," Lois continued, "in the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there … and wouldn't pass out from the smell of Richard's socks."

Martha gasped in amusement and shock. "Lois!" she exclaimed, but the reporter only grinned wickedly as she returned to the narrative.

The rest of the family was laughing now and Lois was on a roll. Richard knew she was lightening the mood just for him, and he loved her for it. Loved them all, really; this was his family, minus a few members but still strong, still full of life and love and laughter. "The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of meerkats danced in their heads…"

* * *


	13. Turkey and Tinsel

**Well, as you know, last week's chapter was derailed by one of the best excuses ever (meeting Margot Kidder! *is still on a high about that*), but we did feel awful for missing the deadline. So, we'll be giving you three chapters between now and next Sunday. Which also gets us back on track. As I wrote the other day, we're getting things ready for Act Two and you all will see little changes going on on this account. Don't worry if little title changes are being made and such. But plan for change in other places that you don't expect, as well. *evil grin***

**Expect to see the next chapter in the next few days and the third next Saturday! Enjoy, all!**

* * *

"Mommy?" Lois knew that chipper, questioning voice well, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Before she could hear it again, she quickly turned toward the back of the couch and buried her face in the pillow. "Mommy? Mommy?"

She was just waking up again and this was a little more than she could handle, even on Christmas Day. Maybe _especially_ Christmas Day, the threads of sleep still clinging to her warmly. The reporter had gotten up _very_ early, early enough to share coffee with Martha before Clark or the kids came downstairs hunting for presents. In other words, just after dawn, which absolutely attested to her insomnia. They'd had a little while to reminisce; seeing Ella's coffee mug still in the cupboard, as if she might stop by Martha's kitchen again, had brought more sweet memories than bitter grief.

And of course, as if they knew that the two matriarchs were swapping confidences about them, the twins and Clark had woken up not much later, and Lois had been swept into the whirl of opening presents. Despite herself, she was _still_ furious at Clark for buying Kala the damn karaoke machine that had been verboten in her younger years. He'd argued, successfully, that Lois had told him not to buy it when Kala was stilllittle more than a baby, and that her voice had surely settled into its adult range by now. There had been some bickering over it, but the reporter had mostly forgotten about it since then. Confronted with this engine of destruction once again, Lois had grumbled that there would be no peace in the house while their daughter wailed into a microphone like an banshee, even as Kala had squealed with glee and jumped up to hug her father. Never mind that the tag said it was from Mom and Dad; all three of them knew who had actually bought it.

At some point after breakfast, stuffed solid by gingerbread pancakes and more than a dozen apple sausages of her own, Lois had wandered back out into the living room and dozed off on the couch. She wasn't even aware of the fact that she had fallen asleep until the Peeping had begun. And now that she had been caught unaware, the ghosts of Christmases past had returned to haunt her. "Mommy?"

It took no effort at all to know that was Jason, doing his best to imitate his own six-year-old voice, despite the way his voice had changed in the last couple of years, crouched beside the couch. Lois groaned pathetically again; the twins used to think this was the highest form of comedy, following her around chirping at her until she screamed and chased them. It was adorable at four, still kinda cute at six, but had absolutely lost its charm by ten. And neither twin seemed to be aware of how the joke had gotten old.

Now, at sixteen, it was the flat-out disturbing of a twisted horror movie in which she was the only victim. "Mommy?" Jason chirped again, closer now. Burrowing against the back of the couch, Lois could tell he was leaning in toward her. It was only the logy feeling the food had inspired that kept her on the couch. If she ignored him long enough, he'd stop. It had always worked that way when they were little…

"Mommy?" _**Damn**__. Damn damn __**damn**_! A higher voice, coming from over the top of the couch: Kala had come downstairs and joined her brother. Knowing her fate was sealed now that they were a united front, Lois snarled in irritation and yanked the pillow out from under her head, covering her ears with it as they began to chirp both in earnest and in unison.

"Mommy?" "Mommy?" "_Mom_my!" "Mommy?" "Mommy mommy mom_meeeee_!" "Mommy?" Jason kept to the steady questioning chirrup, while Kala varied her tone from demanding to whiny. Eventually she started a singsong repetition into which Jason's queries fell like the percussion in a very weird song. "Mommymommymommymommy…" "Mommy?"

_Oh my God, enough, enough, __**E-DAMN-NOUGH**__!_ Lois finally couldn't take it anymore and leaped to her feet, swinging the sofa pillow wildly. Kala ducked behind the couch, giggling uncontrollably, but Jason took a direct hit to the face and toppled over to lie on his back, laughing. Lois threw the pillow at him, snarling, "You two! _God!_ You two are absolutely, and always have been, your father's evil plot to drive me crazy! If the public knew just how sadistic Superman is…"

"You have to admit that in your case, it's a short trip," Clark opined, setting both twins to cackling even harder, and Lois grabbed the other sofa pillow to fling at him. He caught it, chuckling, and she just glared at him poisonously. Martha was in the doorway watching them all and shaking her head slightly in amusement.

"This highly professional assessment of my sanity comes from a man with multiple identities," Lois muttered, glaring at her husband. "Some help _you_ are, hero!" He grinned, but whatever witty reply he planned to make was cut off by the sound of a car pulling up in the drive, followed by the thump of running feet on the wooden steps.

"Merry Christmas!" they heard Kristin call from the front porch. "Daddy, come _on_!" A moment later, Richard opened the door for her, and she barreled into the room. The first thing she saw was Jason, still lying on the floor and snickering a little, and she leaped onto him with a gleeful yell. "Merry Christmas, Jason!"

The look on his face was nothing short of comical as all of Kristin's sixty pounds came down on him in a bundle of happy nine-year-old. "Oof," he wheezed, trying to sit up quickly to get in a breath as Kala scrambled to help him. "Hi, Little K."

Watching the little redhead giggle as Kala took her turn for snuggles, Lois dropped back down onto the couch. "Vengeance is mine," Lois chuckled. "Now you know what it felt like for the rest of us with you two. All the nutty crap you two pulled on me when you were little, the Cuddlebug is paying you back for in spades." At the mention of her nickname, Kristin beamed at Lois and headed over for Lo-Lo hugs.

"Yeah, but we all know you love the kiddle-monsters," Richard said, coming into the room after hugging Martha. "And you managed to laugh through most of it, I'm proud to say. Even when they were borrowing your makeup to paint Big Chief Jason's face when they were playing cowboys and Indians, you managed to only scold them."

That memory provoked an eye roll of epic proportions. "Oh yeah, and they couldn't even get into the cheap stuff," Lois remembered while she kissed Kristin's forehead, smirking at the memory. "It was my $300 MAC stash. I guess we all know what started Kala on her way."

"I still have the pictures from that somewhere," her daughter said in a deceptively thoughtful tone. "When you get married, Jason, I'm gonna show them to your wife whenever she thinks about having kids." Holding up an imaginary photo, she adopted a serious tone. "Ma'am, are you sure you really want _this_ to reproduce?"

For this offense, Jason threw the pillow at her. "Pardon me, Colonel Panda, what was that?" he snapped with dramatic disbelief. "Exactly where do you have room to pick on someone? This is from the girl who owns _five_ black lipsticks! One of which is named after death by suffocation!"

Kristin, however, had better things to do than listen to her siblings squabble. Once down from Lois' lap, her blue eyes caught on the other pillow Clark had returned to the sofa. Sneaking over to snatch it up, she cheerfully interrupted the twins' fussing by whapping Jason in the head. "Got you! Pillow fight!"

The sudden disappearance of Jason's face behind the fabric of the pillow only startled Kala for a moment, although she resolutely bit back hysterical mocking laughter for a better punch line. One dark eyebrow arched as she made herself look as serious as possible. "For thinking you're the one with the dazzling intellect, you're eating a lot of pillow this morning, Kemosabe," Kala observed drolly, fighting not to break character when their mother suddenly wheezed laughter.

It wasn't normally very easy to get Jason riled up and hyper, but both twins seemed to have taken too long a sunbath after presents. It took just a minute for him to get the pillow away from his little sister and wave it threateningly at Kala. "I'll get you for this, Raccoon Eyes, and you know I'm a dead shot at this close a distance," he mock-growled. "No squaw makes fun of this brave!"

The unfamiliar word made the little redhead frown at her big brother. The stolen pillow and the threat against her beloved sister was forgotten at what she considered a greater slight. "Jason, Kala's a _girl,_ not a _squaw_," Kristin complained, looking dubiously at Jason. "Whatsa squaw, anyways? It sounds like somethin' mean."

The opportunity just dangling there, it was Richard that took the bait. "It's the noise Lo-Lo makes when you wake her up in the morning," he said without even breaking a smile, and dodged Lois' elbow as she aimed it at his chest.

"Richard White, that is enough. She said _squaw_, not _squall_, and all of you had better settle down," Martha scolded, simply shaking her head at them all. For once not having been the one to start it, Lois gave her a wounded look, but the older woman just winked. "I don't want my pillows messed up. And I think there's a few presents left under the tree?"

That had the same effect as a trumpet sounding. Kristin scrambled off Jason's lap and dove for the pile of wrapping paper around the tree. "Presents! Presents! Here's one … it says Richard. That's you, Daddy!"

"Thanks, baby girl," Richard said, taking the small box and sitting down on the sofa beside Lois. She punched his shoulder for the comment a moment ago, and when he glared at her, she just smiled. Sighing, Richard opened his gift. "Fuzzy socks," he said, looking back at Lois. "Someone's got a sick sense of humor."

"At least they're gray," Clark said. "She was eyeing a pair of pink ones. With bunny ears."

Lois just continued to sit there with her arms crossed, smiling, as Kristin found one of her gifts and began to tear into it. Richard tried glaring at his ex, but as usual, it devolved into snickering. "Woman, you're evil," he sighed affectionately.

"Which is just the way you like me," Lois retorted with a self-satisfied grin. "I think you liked me less when I was nicer to you. God knows you probably would've _loathed_ me if I'd married you."

Richard mussed her hair as he replied, "But Lois, I have no evidence that you're nice to the man you did marry. Of course, he probably likes you evil, too…" He glanced up at Clark for confirmation, and Lois swatted at his hand.

Kristin squealed with joy over the model horse she'd just unwrapped, and dove in for another present. "This one's for … Mommy." She crawled out from under the tree and looked at the adults. "Daddy, how come Mommy's missing Christmas?"

The pout she saw on Kristin's face broke her heart a little, but she sighed regretfully, "Because your Mommy works way too much, Cuddlebug." When Richard's elbow hit her ribs, she added after a glare at the perpetrator, "Sweetheart, she had to go to Italy for her company. She'll be home soon, I promise."

Kala, trying for a little damage control herself, pulled Kristin into her lap and distracted her with another package. "Besides, then we get to open presents all over again," she murmured into her sister's ear, hugging her. "So it's like getting two Christmases."

That thought cheered the little girl up, but Richard was clearly still unhappy about it. Lois patted his shoulder consolingly, sneaking a glance at the clock. "Poor thing," she murmured with a touch of relish, pitching her voice so that Kristin couldn't hear her. "This year really is a prize-winner, huh, flyboy? Your wife is avoiding you not just on Christmas, but also on your tenth anniversary. Man, I dunno what you did to piss her off…"

The reaction to her taunting was immediate. The look on Kala's face was incredulous, although the comment completely flew over her younger sister's head. "Lois!" Clark hissed in disbelief, while Jason stared at her uncomprehendingly.

Even Richard was taken aback by it. "Don't mind Lois, she can't help being a first-class pain in the ass," he muttered after a moment, trying to conceal his hurt expression.

The pain in his friend's voice had Clark on his feet, his eyes stern on his wife. "That's it, Richard, I'm going to get her," the taller man stated. "If Lana had any idea how much this was bothering you she'd never…"

"No!" Lois responded sharply before he could finish. Noting the disbelieving eyes all around her, she quickly added in a softer voice, "Clark, how're you going to explain that, huh? Kristin won't be able to keep mum, and Lana's parents will want to know how she suddenly got here…"

Richard sighed then, suddenly very interested in watching his youngest daughter opening her present. He didn't look up when he spoke. "She's got a point. It's okay, Clark. Thanks."

Clark stared, still unbelieving, at Lois. The woman herself had now become more than a little captivated by her coffee. In the midst of the awkwardness that fell on the group, Martha decided to distract them all by bringing out a tray of cookies and all present were more than willing to have their attentions diverted. Baked goods, the presents and Kristin insisting on opening them on Lo-Lo's lap kept Clark from pulling Lois aside, although she got enough stern looks from him to know she was due for a major dressing-down for her insensitivity. Catching his steely look over the little redhead's shoulder for the third time, he saw her just sigh heavily before looking at the clock again.

Martha had taken pity on Richard and made sure he got extra cookies, and he seemed to cheer up a little under the attention. Kristin had roped Jason and Kala into playing one of her new games, and Richard watched them with a wistful little smile. The gifts he received were much appreciated, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

Just as things had calmed enough for their presence to go temporarily unnoticed for a time, Clark was about to corner Lois in the kitchen and demand answers from her when Richard's phone rang. He actually looked excited for the first time that day as he answered it. "Hello, beautiful," he said, his smile making it clear to whom he spoke.

At that, Lois finally seemed to lose some of her tension. Crossing her arms in a defensive posture, it was her turn to stare at Clark as he tilted his head, listening to both halves of the conversation. Lois could only hear Richard say, "What do you mean, look out the window…?" As he got up to go to the front window, with the three kids trailing him curiously, Lois gave an irritated little smirk at Clark. Martha glanced at the two of them, wanting to say something, but then turned to see Richard pull aside the curtains. "_Holy crap!_" he yelled in utter disbelief, the shock of this surprise clear. "You liar, you said you wouldn't be back until New Year's! Lana!" With that he dropped the phone and ran outside.

"No," Lois whispered, still sitting on the couch as they heard Richard pound across the porch and down the front stairs, "she said she wasn't _sure_ if she'd be back before New Year's."

That stopped her husband's glare all at once. How could she have known anything about this? Then he realized that Lois' apparent cruelty toward Richard had been for a reason. "You were in on this," Clark said slowly, watching her face.

Those hazel eyes were just a tad frosty when they met his. "Of course," Lois replied in a firmly distant tone. She rose from the couch then with the utmost dignity, her armor steadfastly fastened now. "Did you really think I'd be _that_ much of a bitch to him if I didn't know she was going to be here?" She paused for a second, watching his eyes now, and then looked away with a tightening of her jaw. "You know what? Never mind, I don't wanna know."

"Lois," Clark said, catching her hand as she went to the door. "I knew you had to know _something_ I didn't."

Just as soon as he caught her hand in his, she pulled away from him gently, her brow nettling with hurt. In that moment, the distance that was growing between them loomed largely. "Sure you did." The resignation in her voice was not unfamiliar to him these days as she turned and walked away from him.

Smarting from that, Lois could hear him echo her sigh as she moved to the living room, just behind the rush as everyone else came to see the spectacle. Only the reminder that this was Christmas and that Richard would understand what she had done kept her muddled emotions at bay.

…

Richard hadn't noticed anything past the fact that Lana was _here_. He'd raced out of the house and swept her up in a fierce hug, twirling her around as she yelped in surprise. He set her down just long enough to kiss her, ignoring whatever she was trying to tell him in the immediacy of showing her how much she'd been missed. Finally he leaned back, eyes agleam, and said, "I _knew_ you'd never leave me alone on Christmas, especially on our tenth."

"Have you even looked at your gift?" Lana asked through laughter.

"What gift?" he said, not seeing a box in her hands. "Lady, you're gift enough," he added, and kissed her again.

Lana broke away and caught his chin, turning his face so that he saw the car she'd driven up in for the first time. He knew those lines instantly; Richard had always loved the Saab company and knew all of their models even at the briefest glance. This one was a silver convertible … with a large red bow on the roof…

"Holy shit, you bought me a _car?!_" he yelled, pulling Lana in for a hug that threatened to crack her ribs.

"Language, Richard," she wheezed when he let her go, just before he pinned her against the car for another kiss. This one was intended to fully express his joy in the gift, and it was a Christmas miracle that Jason and Kala hadn't started gagging after a minute and a half.

Kristin stared at her parents and then looked up at Martha. "Mommy and Daddy are silly," she commented.

Martha crossed her arms and glanced over Lois, who was leaning against the doorway and watching them with affectionate amusement. "Yes, they are," she replied. "Lois, should I get the hose?"

The reporter's smile was so wistful it hurt Martha to see it. "Nah, let 'em enjoy it," the reporter replied with the appropriate jocularity, although her eyes held a haunted light. "Besides, we all know that Lana won't let him make _too_ much of a spectacle of himself. And if she does, we can always threaten to call Martin and Annette."

Staying silent, Clark was watching with slightly bittersweet fondness. He and Lois used to be that unabashedly and spontaneously affectionate. But the last few months, it seemed that they only got along when at least one of them was making a concerted effort to do so. Where had they drifted off course?

Outside, Richard had finally broken away from Lana long enough to circle his new car, practically dancing in excitement. The rest of the family drifted outside to greet Lana and to admire the convertible. Lois tried for a passable smile and waved at Lana when the redhead had a chance to look up.

Lana waved back, the mischievous gleam in her eyes making it clear who her conspirator had been. Then the redhead returned her full attention to her husband and her daughter. Kristin had swarmed into Lana's arms, already babbling about the wonderful Christmas she was having and how great it was that Mommy made it here on time.

Richard seated himself in front of the steering wheel and breathed in deeply, his eyes half-closed as if savoring a fine wine instead of the new-car smell. Lana couldn't help chuckling at him. "I'm beginning to be jealous of the car," she said teasingly.

"Don't be," he said, grinning. "Wanna hop in the passenger seat and take it for a test drive?"

"We have an hour or two before we're expected at my parents' house," Lana said slowly, knowing that gleam in his eyes too well. "And I doubt you and Kristin have finished opening your presents."

"You have a few gifts under the tree yourself," Richard said, getting out of the car again. Sweeping her into his arms for another hug, he whispered in her ear, "I might just have an extra present for you…"

"Wicked," Lana breathed against his cheek. "I'll think about it. Now let's go back inside."

Lois just shook her head, knowing exactly what Richard was up to by the expression on his face. As for Lana, she'd been the good girl for so long that a little bad behavior could only create a healthy balance. The reporter was so amused by their antics that she didn't realize Kala was beside her until the girl nudged her arm. Kala held up one hand, smirking. "Gimme five, Mom. That was Oscar-worthy."

Lois slapped her palm lightly, glad someone appreciated her subterfuge.

…

As they drove to the Lang house for lunch, with Kristin happily playing with one of her new games in the back seat, Richard and Lana were at first silent. They both appreciated the purr of the powerful engine (and the comfort of the leather seats) as much as they had on the first drive, but something else was on both their minds. Coming back to the Kent house to pick up Kristin after their test drive, they'd felt a tension that seemed to have evaporated earlier while gifts were being opened.

"Lois and Clark…" Richard began, and faltered, glancing into the rearview mirror to see if Kristin was listening.

Lana followed his gaze, saw that their daughter was occupied, but switched to Italian anyway. They'd both gained fluency in that language thanks to Lana's frequent business trips to Milan. "You noticed, too?" she asked.

"You know I think it's sexy as hell when you speak Italian," Richard said in English, but the remark lacked his usual mirth. He switched to Italian to continue, "I've been noticing for a while. Things aren't quite right between them, are they? You see a lot more than I do in that department, though."

She sighed. "Things are far from right. They used to be as affectionate as we are – Lois could tease us about sugar-shock all she wanted, but every time Clark smiled at her, she melted. Now there's a little distance between them, always, a little stiffness in the way they touch each other. They're trying to pretend like it's not there, and they may have convinced each other, but not me."

Richard nodded. "You know what it reminds me of?" he asked.

"You and Lois, around the time I met you both," Lana said resignedly.

"Yeah. Growing apart and in denial about it. Heading for a wreck." They were both silent for a moment, and then Richard said, "I think it was better for everyone that Lois and I split when we did. I don't regret being with her at all…"

"Neither do I," Lana interrupted gently. "Regret youbeing with her, that is. Lois did teach you a few useful things, after all."

Her tone was honeyed, implying certain of his skills that she thoroughly enjoyed, but Richard knew there was more than that to it. "Mainly how to be a grownup," he said, giving Lana a warm smile. "And the kids taught me how to be a dad. But I was saying, I'm glad I was with her, and I'm glad I didn't marry her. I don't think she and I could've really been happy together forever after."

"I love you, too," Lana said, running her hand down his arm affectionately.

Richard caught her hand and carried it to his lips for a quick, fervent kiss. "The thing is, I see her and Clark heading down that same road, but I really don't believe they have to break up. Know what I mean? My relationship with her wasn't – or shouldn't have been – salvageable, but his should be."

"Has to be," Lana said quietly. "I don't think he could bear the loss of her, Richard. I think it would drive him mad, or at least make him wall the rest of humanity out of his heart."

"She couldn't stand to lose him again, either," Richard said. "Lois is one of the strongest women I know, but I don't think she could handle that."

"How come you're talking Eye-talian about Lo-Lo?" Kristin asked suddenly. Richard jumped a little, but Lana turned to look sternly at her daughter.

"Because I might have a surprise or two for her this Christmas, and I strongly suspect she has a spy in my camp," Lana said archly, giving Kristin such an exaggerated look of suspicion that the little girl giggled helplessly. "But you're right, sweetheart. It's rude of us." Her glance to Richard, however, made it clear that this discussion was merely postponed, not ended.

* * *


	14. And The Typical Trouble

* * *

**And now here's the second of the three promised chapters for the week. For those of you that are worrying over our OTP, keep in mind that anything is possible with our fics and you all know it's best not to jump to conclusions on anything, especially not this early in a story. That said, you know we love you and that we're up to something. I'm not saying what it is, or when it will be, or when it will end, but we promise you a hell of a tale, as always. So everyone can put down the pitchforks. You trusted us through****_LS_ (_somewhat_, I say while grinning); just sit back and enjoy. **

* * *

"Children, if you don't stop getting underfoot…" Martha warned. It was the day after Christmas and at the Kent farmhouse, leftovers were something to look forward to – at least when they would be served with fresh-baked cookies. Richard, Lana, and Kristin had come over, and Ben had come back last night from spending Christmas with his sons and grandsons. Now they were all in the living room, swapping stories from the previous day; at the moment everyone was praising Lana's deviousness in keeping the car from Richard until the last moment.

Only the twins had forsaken the general gathering to lurk in the kitchen. "There has to be _something_ we can help you with," Kala wheedled, eyeing the oven. "Please?"

"I'm perfectly aware that you two consider yourselves cooks," Martha said, giving them the studied eye of a woman who had been through this before, "but I really don't need the help this time. You were both very sweet yesterday, and I'm grateful."

Jason and Kala both looked a little lost. They knew that Martha's kitchen helpers often got a nibble of dessert before anyone else, and with the scent of made-from-scratch cookies filling the farmhouse, their stomachs rumbled. Not even yesterday's huge Christmas dinner could satisfy half-Kryptonian appetites. The twins had eaten breakfast, but now they were growing desperate for a snack.

Their pitiful expressions finally made their grandmother shake her head and laugh. "Shoo, the both of you! The cookies will be done soon enough, and we can all eat in the living room."

Kala could hear Grandpa Ben now talking about his newest grandson, just old enough to walk. If the pair of them retired to the living room, they'd have to wait until Grandma was done to sample the cookies. If only they could find a way to keep lurking in the kitchen until the first batch was finished, they could probably snatch up any funny-shaped ones…

Suddenly Jason seized on an idea. "How about we put the plates away?" he said quickly. The fine china service Martha had served Christmas dinner on had been allowed to soak overnight and been cleaned, very gently, this morning. All of the pieces had been arranged around the kitchen, propped up to drip-dry and spare the gold-plated rims any damage towels could have caused.

"Sweetheart, that's all right," Martha began, her tone clearly trying to dissuade, but Jason acted as though she'd given permission. He gathered up the plates quickly, stacking them atop each other and heading for the china hutch to put them away. Kala, not to be outdone, caught up the saucers. "You really don't have to," they heard Grandma call, but they both pretended deafness.

"Beat ya to the cups," Kala hissed, and Jason grinned fiercely. Always faster, she was back in the kitchen before him, but Jason with his longer arms simply reached around her and grabbed two cups off the table, nudging his sister aside as he did.

Their grandmother saw what was going to happen the instant before it did. "Watch…!" she cried, but too late. In his haste, Jason had fumbled a bit, one cup slipping. He caught at it, it slipped again, and he made one last desperate grab before the cup could slither out of his grasp and hit the floor. His fingers closed around it securely.

A little _too_ securely. The fragile china cup exploded, powdering Jason's hand with porcelain. He stared at the ruined cup, speechless, and a dozen similar instances from his childhood echoed in his memory. _Jason just doesn't know his own strength … he plays a little rough … but that truck was supposed to be unbreakable…_

A sharp slap against the back of his head refocused him. "Way to go, dumbass," Kala snarled, unable to censor herself in her own horror. "Clumsy freakin' idiot…"

"Kala Josephine!" Martha said in affronted tones. "Watch your language!"

The girl's jaw dropped open, not having expected the censure in light of Jason's transgression. Shocked that Martha was yelling at _her_ when _Jason_ was the one who'd broken the cup. "But he…" she began, eyes wide in incredulity.

Martha was having none of it. "Both of you, out of my kitchen," she said more sharply than she usually ever spoke. "If you'd gone when I told you to, this wouldn't have happened."

Neither twin was well-versed in being reprimanded by Grandmother and were wounded by it. Her eyes filling, Kala turned and dashed out – faster than the human eye could follow. The back door banged behind her; but Jason, despite his very clear shame, didn't follow. Obviously startled by the slam of the door, Lois strode into the kitchen with a curious frown, eyes going from one face to another. "What just happened?"

Blushing in shame, Jason forced himself to meet Martha's eyes even as Clark came to check on the situation, joining Lois in the doorway. "I'll clean up the mess," Jason offered softly. "I'm sorry, Grandma. I didn't mean to." He couldn't think of anything to say to his parents, and hoped the apology to Martha would be enough.

Clark looked at the shattered cup and Jason's hangdog expression, drawing conclusions while Martha gave a frustrated sigh. "I know you didn't, sweetheart, but that's why I didn't want you two putting those away. And you _really_ didn't need to start horsing around with your sister."

"Did Kala say what I think she said?" Clark asked quietly. Lois' mouth was set in a firm line, surveying the damage. Jason knew by her expression that he wouldn't escape a lecture, so he busied himself cleaning up.

"Yes, and I'll bet you the rest of the china she's hiding out in the barn, ashamed of herself," Martha replied. "Just like you did a time or two. Leave her be, Clark. There's nothing any of us can say to her that'll make her feel worse than she feels right now, especially when she realizes _you_ heard that." With another sigh, clearly forcing herself to calm down, she added, "It's only a cup, after all."

"It's the good china," Jason muttered as he got the broom, feeling miserable and not wanting to be consoled. He glanced at his mother, hoping his contrition would mellow her, but saw her rubbing her thumb over the locket he and Kala had given her on their birthday. _That_ wasn't a good sign. The family was realizing that Lois had developed the habit to remind herself not to lose her temper with the children.

"It's still only a cup," Martha insisted. "China wouldn't be so valuable if it wasn't very easy to break. Just don't do it again, Jason."

Clark fell to helping Jason sweep up the shattered cup. He listened for Kala and caught her heartbeat coming from the hayloft. _She ought to be ashamed of herself, using language like that to her own brother, and in front of her grandmother,_ he thought. _Let her stay out there and think about what she's done._ Those were uncharacteristically uncharitable thoughts for Clark, but he'd heard his daughter, his little angel, cursing at her brother, and she knew very well how he felt about that kind of language. Never mind that Lois swore casually or pungently as the situation required; she was Lois, outside of anyone's definition of ladylike behavior, treated more as a force of nature than a lady.

Said force of nature was waiting for Jason to finish cleaning up. When Clark would have stayed, Lois sweetly asked him, "Please let Ben and the others know everything's all right. Jason just dropped a cup."

Clark nodded, knowing they couldn't tell the truth. "Don't forget to wash your hands," he said to Jason, clasping the boy's shoulder briefly. Jason went to the sink and did so, while Martha made herself unobtrusive with the cookies.

When he turned back around, his guilt doubled at the frustration on his mother's face. Even as a little boy, there had never been anyone he hated to disappoint more than the woman across from him. Leaning against one of the kitchen chairs, she stared at him without a sound; those hazel eyes keen in their observation. It was just when the silence was growing unbearable that Lois finally spoke. "Jason, you know better than this. I expect this kind of behavior from Kala; these days, you can't expect her to listen to anyone with the way your father spoils her, but I expect better from you. What were you _thinking_?"

There was no mistaking the amazed frustration there, utterly surprised that he would have done something this foolhardy. She lowered her voice then, her frown deepening. "I told your dad that we shouldn't have let you guys let it all hang out the last two days. Being able to use your powers at a whim isn't a good idea at you and Kala's age. It's too easy to slip and forget yourself afterwards." She crossed her arms at him, although that one hand still fidgeted with the locket. _Rub, rub, rub_. "Jason, there are people in this house that have no idea of the Secret, of any of the things that the two of you or your father can do, and they should be allowed to keep that security. What would you have done if Kristin or your Grandpa Ben had walked in here while you were horsing around and saw that bone-china cup explode in your _hand_? China your Grandma has had for years? You may have been able to play it off to the little one, but Ben's no fool." Both of her dark brows rose then, questioning, challenging. "Seriously, Jason, what would you have done?"

He slumped against the sink, looking for all the world like Bagel when she'd been caught napping on forbidden furniture. "I don't know," he admitted. "Probably had to hope you or Dad or Grandma would save me."

Lois sighed, tilting her head back and running her hands through her hair. When she'd re-gathered her composure, she looked at her son and explained gently, "Jason, Mom and Dad won't always be able to save you. You have to know what you can do and when, and who you can do it in front of."

That patient tone, like one she'd use with Kristin, shamed Jason even more deeply. He hung his head; he had been a fool to risk his family's safety. Sure, Ben had plenty of reasons not to tell the world that his son-in-law was Superman, but the twins had had the importance of that secrecy drilled into them at an early age. The fewer people who knew, the fewer chances for word to slip out to unfriendly ears. That was why Kristin was still kept in the dark, why no one even discussed telling Ben or Aunt Lucy. It didn't matter that they were trustworthy; every new person let into the circle was a potential weakness. If someone like Luthor suspected that Ben knew the secret, what might he use against the older man to acquire more information?

Furious with himself, Jason wanted to hide his face and mumble. But he was his mother's son, and Lois faced everything with courage. He straightened up, looked Lois in the eye in spite of his flaming cheeks, and said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I screwed up. It won't happen again."

Lois watched him sternly for a moment, and then relented with a tiny smile. "I know you try," she said softly, and rose to go to him. Hugging her little boy – who was now several inches taller than her – Lois whispered, "I love you, Jason."

Neither of them noticed Martha surreptitiously dashing tears from her eyes. _So like his father,_ she thought, forcing down a lump in her throat. _And I'm sorry I ever doubted Lois. Raising a hero isn't an easy task, and she's more than equal to it._

…

Kala sat where she could see out of the open loft door, but far enough back that the shadows hid her from anyone else's eyes. She sniffled, forcing herself not to cry; her makeup would run, and she didn't want everyone to know she'd been bawling like a little kid. Eventually someone would come to check on her, and she'd go back in and apologize to Grandma and Jason. Maybe the older woman would apologize for snapping, but if she didn't, Kala would act as though her grandmother's sharp rebuke hadn't wounded her.

_Never show weakness._ She'd learned it from Mom, watching how her mother dealt with people, and taken the lesson to heart. Even when overmatched, it was possible to brazen your way to success if you just never _admitted_ to being outdone. Even when you were scared and lonely, if you didn't act it, people would praise your confidence.

Martha's anger stung, but knowing she'd disappointed her father hurt worse. Kala had overheard him, and knew her hasty words had disappointed him. He rarely made a strong issue of the swearing – he couldn't, not with Mom bellowing profanity at work and at home – but both twins knew his stand on the matter. They both also knew that Clark became more stringent in Kansas, out of respect for his mother.

Still, it was only a _word_! Kala bit her lip at the unfairness of it, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. Jason was the klutz who'd broken the cup; he was the one who'd gotten competitive and _pushed_ her out of his way. But he was already forgiven, and she was banished to the barn…

The fact that she'd _chosen_ to exile herself from the gathering didn't occur to Kala at the moment. She'd heard her father coming and disappeared, afraid to face him and smarting from the injustice of Martha yelling at _her_. Now she sulked, listening to the rest of the family and growing more upset that no one had come out here after her. Maybe they wanted her to just stay out here and not cause any more trouble, never mind that the broken cup was Jason's fault. Or maybe no one cared. Maybe they hadn't even noticed.

Kala knew that was a selfish, immature thought, but she couldn't help entertaining it. Feeling ignored and put-upon was better than feeling foolish and hurt. Her tears dried, and she glared angrily at the farmhouse. Fine, then. Let everyone else have their day-after-Christmas without _her_ around. They'd miss her, sooner or later…

With her self-image having swung from miserable to arrogant again as quickly as any teenager's, Kala was almost too self-absorbed to hear the faint crunching of snow coming toward her. Her head snapped up, eyes unfocused as she listened intently, for those footsteps were coming across the field behind the barn, not the house.

She relaxed as she recognized the tread. _Dustin_. He'd been a little awkward and distant when she first arrived in Smallville a few days ago, taken aback no doubt by the way she'd chosen to emphasize her Goth style in the last few months. Kala enjoyed making strangers stare at her as if she were, well, an _alien _in their midst, but hated the same looks from her friends, whom she believed should know better. But Dustin had quickly warmed up to her again, once he got over his initial surprise, and Kala had been pleased to notice that her more elegant clothes had a noticeable effect on him.

They'd run into each other in town several times as well as visited each other's houses, but it was usually in company with their siblings. That had been fun – Kala liked Wade and Cathy, and the younger girl had finally grown out of her silly crush on Jason enough to be a good friend to him and Kristin. The group had been augmented by some of their other friends from town, and running around with them all was very enjoyable, but Kala had never had the opportunity to talk to Dustin alone.

He was special: one of the first boys to develop an obvious crush on her, and better than that, a good friend to her and Jason. Dustin had also never become pushy or demanding as some boys did. He was in awe of Kala, and she counted on his devotion even though they only saw each other a few times a year. They kept in touch by email and instant message, and Dustin sometimes went to the trouble of sending a hand-written letter through the postal service.

That last touched Kala; most of her generation preferred to type messages and would never think to send a letter. Dustin was something else entirely, a person with one foot in a thoroughly modern world of computers and cars that ran on ethanol-blended fuel, the other in a place where the past seemed much closer, where an afternoon's entertainment could consist of riding a mule along a deer trail or fishing with a simple cane pole. Kala felt a kind of kinship with him for that, for knowing how to track a fox that crossed his yard and how to program a DVD recorder. Maybe he felt torn between two worlds, the way she sometimes did when Kryptonian ideals clashed with human realities.

Kala stood up as Dustin came around the corner of the barn, taking a couple steps toward the sill so he would see her. She had no fear of the drop, certain of her own balance, but when Dustin saw her he looked startled. "Kala!"

"C'mere, and quit being an old woman," she scoffed, stepping back from the edge. "I won't fall."

Dustin just shook his head, and as Kala had hoped, he came directly over to the barn, avoiding the house and everyone else for the moment. He climbed the ladder to the loft and sat down beside Kala. She'd retreated to the shadows again, suddenly aware of the chaff clinging to her hair and her sweater. "Hey," Dustin said.

"Hi," Kala replied. "How was your Christmas?"

"Pretty good," he answered, and they chatted lightly about gifts for a while. Dustin eventually asked, "So how come you're out here all by yourself?"

Kala scowled. "Grandma got mad at me for calling Jason a dumbass," she muttered. "And he was being one, too. So I came out here to keep from getting yelled at any more over such a dumb little thing."

Normally, Dustin would've fought to defend his friend's reputation. But firstly, this was Jason's sister, and Dustin had taken enough insults from his little sister Cathy to know that he would've resented anyone else's interference. And secondly, this was _Kala_. She had carte blanche to do whatever she wanted in Dustin's eyes. Instead of berating her, Dustin just heaved a commiserating sigh.

He was looking for something else to say when he noticed that Kala was only wearing a sweater over a long-sleeved shirt. The hayloft was warmer than outside, but she really should've had a jacket on. Maybe there was an opportunity there… "You must be cold," he said solicitously. The coat he wore had been his grandfather's, wool-lined and heavy enough for an entire day outdoors in the coldest weather. Dustin unbuttoned it and held it open, asking, "Wanna share?"

Kala snuggled in against his side gratefully, and he caught his breath. Dustin _had_ kissed a few girls since Kala had smooched him when they were both fourteen, and even done a little bit of petting, but he wasn't prepared for Kala to practically meld against his side. Her head lay quite comfortably against his shoulder, and a soft curve he dared not think too much about pressed against his chest. With his arm around her shoulder and her hip against his leg, her nearness was a heady experience. Dustin grinned, daring to rest his cheek on her hair.

Sounding perfectly content and a little sleepy, Kala murmured, "Hey, Dustin?"

"Hmm?" he replied, swept up in the scent of her hair. It smelled a little like honey and jasmine and a little like some kind of spice…

"If you were _really_ worried about me being cold, you would've _given_ me the coat." She looked up at him as she said it, her hazel eyes alight with mischief, and Dustin realized knew perfectly well why he'd offered to share the coat.

Dustin blushed at being caught, and Kala chuckled, snuggling even closer to his side. After a moment, he managed to drum up enough courage to say hesitantly, "Well, can you blame me?"

Kala looked up again, and this time the gleam in her eyes was pure mischief. "Not a bit," she said. This time she didn't burrow back down into the warmth of the coat, and her expression was so clearly a challenge that Dustin couldn't help taking her up on it.

Cupping her cheek in one gloved hand, he titled her face up and kissed her, feeling Kala's smile beneath his lips.

…

Lana had gone to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee while the rest of the family nibbled cookies and talked in the living room. Her own parents had graciously encouraged her and Richard and Kristin to visit with the Kents; the holidays could get very crowded and hectic with the extended Lang family together, and being able to trade off with Martha and Ben helped them enjoy a little peace and quiet. Though that left the Kent farmhouse a touch crowded, Martha seemed to love all the fuss, and everyone was happy.

As the coffee percolated, Lana looked out the kitchen door. Kala was lurking out there somewhere, probably working herself into a fine state over Martha's scolding. The redhead doubted she was wounded in more than pride, but like her mother Kala tended to take blows to the ego far more personally than any other injury. Heavens only knew how she'd rationalize her own behavior…

Jason came into the kitchen, still looking abashed. When Lana glanced at him, he smiled wanly. "I'm gonna go check on Kala," he said. "She shouldn't be out there without a jacket on."

Lana smiled sadly; both of them knew Kala was in no danger from the weather with her half-Kryptonian metabolism. More likely, Jason just missed his twin and hated to think of her sitting out there alone. "You're a good brother, always watching over your sisters," Lana told him, beckoning Jason close so she could kiss his forehead. "I really appreciate the way you – and Kala – take such good care of Kristin."

"Thanks," Jason said, shuffling his feet a little. He probably guessed the warm praise was meant to steel him against Kala's likely sullen attitude, though the gratitude was genuine. Lana watched him, thinking idly that he would have most of Clark's height when he grew up, but would be a trifle lighter in build, Lois' legacy.

Lana had barely turned back to the coffeemaker when Clark stepped into the kitchen. "He went after Kala," the redhead told him, knowing that Jason had likely made an excuse for leaving the gathering.

"I was about to do the same myself," Clark sighed, shaking her head a little. "Someone needs to tell her…"

He trailed off, and his eyes widened. Clark would've lunged for the door, but Lana pressed a hand to his chest. "What is it?" she hissed, thinking of excuses she could make for his sudden absence. Everyone who knew Clark well developed that skill after a while.

"Jason's yelling at Dustin," he replied, looking a little confused. "When did Dustin get here?"

"I'll deal with it," Lana said firmly. When Clark gave her a confused look, she elaborated, "If Jason's yelling, he probably caught Dustin and Kala kissing. Big brothers can be quite protective of their little sisters, and not even their friends get a pass. Unless you want to embarrass Kala into running all the way back to Metropolis, let me handle it."

Clark had to admit she'd given it more thought than he had, and stepped back. "I'll take the coffee in and make excuses for _you_," he said. "For once."

Lana only gave him a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying outside to deal with the teenagers. The situation in the loft was a bit more intense than Clark had described; Kala was yelling at Jason, Jason was yelling at Dustin, and Dustin was dangling in shock from where Jason had grabbed his coat and lifted him completely off the ground. None of them heard Lana come up the ladder, and her stern voice cut into their argument sharply. "Jason, _put him down_."

Startled, the black-haired boy dropped Dustin. Kala blushed fiercely, and Lana walked toward them deliberately. "That will be quite enough," she said in clipped syllables. "Jason, in the house."

"But…" he began, and Lana simply looked at him. He read the warning in her glance, bit his lip, and went. Two accidental uses of superpowers in one day didn't bode well.

"Dustin," Lana said, in a voice that was softer but not without a hint of rebuke. "I'm not so old that I can't imagine why a girl's brother would be so angry at finding her in the hayloft with one of his closest friends. Maybe you should think on that a little more on your way home."

"Yes, ma'am." Dustin turned to go without argument, leaving with whatever dignity he could scrape together. Although he did look back at Kala longingly just before disappearing out of the loft.

That left Kala, and she sulked, shoulders set and head down, just waiting for an excuse to run off again. Lana looked at her for a long moment, her arms crossed, and just shy of the moment when the girl would've spoken, she said softly, "This has been one heck of a day, hasn't it?"

The sympathy kept Kala off-balance enough that she just looked at Lana, confused, as the redhead strolled over and sat down on the sill, letting her legs hang free over the forty-foot drop. Patting the floor beside her, she glanced over her shoulder at Kala in invitation.

Warily, the girl sat down, huddling into herself and watching Lana from darkly-lined eyes. The redhead could see the faint smears there and knew that Kala had been close to tears. It seemed impossible for a child so bossy and willful to have such a thin skin, but Lana was familiar with the contradiction.

Seating Kala beside her, instead of standing across from the girl, made this more a conversation than a confrontation. Lana allowed the silence to stretch for a few minutes, admiring the cloudless blue sky and enjoying the scent of the hay. Finally, she asked, "So what got Jason so upset?"

Kala bit her lip, looking away. "He's an overprotective jerk," she muttered.

"You're his only twin sister," Lana offered. "And he loves you. Though I'm sure it's frustrating when he forgets that you're capable of taking care of yourself."

"Exactly," Kala sighed. "I mean, it's not like I'm _Kristin_. No offense to you – she's still little."

_And the whole group of you are little to me,_ Lana thought, but didn't let it show on her face. She also kept back the notion that Kala wasn't just speaking of Kristin's age. Kala had powers that made her very confident where boys were concerned – too confident for Lana's taste.

Both twins had gotten 'the talk'. But instead of hearing from one designated spokes-parent, they'd wound up with four distinct opinions on the matter. Lana knew that Lois and Richard had likely told the kids to be safe, no matter what, and made sure that they'd have access to the means to ensure that no quarter-Kryptonians would arrive unexpectedly. Richard's thoughts on the matter likely reflected his own regrets over his many youthful indiscretions, while Lois was more concerned that the twins not get involved in hurtful or destructive relationships. Clark, speaking from his own experience, would want them to wait for The One, though he would love them regardless of whatever choice they made. And Lana herself had cautioned them not to choose rashly, making sure of what they wanted. She'd also hinted rather strongly that she would prefer they wait until marriage, but knew that was unlikely to happen. Not when the other three had all had lovers before marriage – though Clark's example served as a warning. Jason might take heed, but Kala…

Kala thought she knew everything already, like most teenage girls. Unlike them, she felt that her superpowers were ample proof of her own superiority to the human race. That made her rash and headstrong where boys were concerned, utterly convinced of her own beauty and certain she deserved to be fawned over. Lana remembered that attitude too well.

Lana's voice was quiet and soothing as she continued. "I don't think Dustin could ever hurt you. He cares too much for you, Kala, and he'd do anything you asked."

The girl colored slightly, murmuring, "He's a good friend."

"He is," Lana agreed. "Good friends last a lifetime, Kala. Look how long I've known your father. And look at how your mother and Richard turned out – their friendship is a lot stronger than their romantic relationship ever was."

Kala sensed she was on shaky ground somehow, but didn't know where the conversation was heading. She sometimes didn't realize she'd gotten a lecture from Lana until days after the fact, and by then it was always too late to rebel. Cautiously, she said, "Are you telling me I shouldn't date him because he's my friend?"

That ran counter to everything the four parents had told the kids, that friendship and mutual respect ought to be paramount in a relationship. Attraction alone couldn't suffice if there were no deeper feelings. Lana smiled and replied, "Last I checked you weren't dating him, sweetheart, just kissing him every now and then." That made Kala blush again, and before she could turn sullen Lana continued, "I wouldn't say you shouldn't date him, Kala. Dustin would be good to you, always – he loves you too much to do anything else. He'd never hurt you. But you could hurt him, very easily."

Kala shifted position, stretching her legs out and then drawing them up again. "I'd never hurt Dustin on purpose," she said firmly.

"Not on purpose," Lana echoed. "But Kala, he's a friend to you – a friend with a crush. A friend you can rely on to pick up your spirits when you feel miserable." That was about as close to the reason why Kala was out here in the first place as Lana wanted to go, and she returned to her main point. "You're more than a friend to him, though. You're his dream girl, the beautiful city girl from Metropolis, exotic and enchanting. And kissing is more important to him than it is to you. City and country values are different. I won't say one is better than the other," she raised an eyebrow and got a chuckle from Kala; they both knew which set of values Lana lived by. "But it's enough of a difference that as soon as Dustin gets over Jason being so angry, he'll be on cloud nine just from kissing you."

Kala frowned; she knew that Smallville and Metropolis were as distant in culture as well as geography, but like Lois before her she had disregarded that difference and kept to her city ways. Most people in Smallville accepted the Lane-Kent women's eccentricities with a shrug – Jason did a much better job of fitting in. The notion that her behavior could actually hurt her friend was a new idea for Kala. She liked Dustin, he wasn't a stick-in-the-mud like some people, so she tended to think that his values were similar to hers. A common enough mistake…

Lana had watched her expression, and knew that Kala didn't do well with lectures. "Let me tell you a story," she said instead. "A real story, about when I was your age." Kala perked up, turning sideways to face Lana directly. She had an intense curiosity about her parents' and grandparents' earlier lives, and unlike a lot of children she avidly listened to their reminiscences.

The redhead smiled a trifle sadly; this wasn't her favorite tale to tell. "When I was sixteen," she began, "I was the head cheerleader at Smallville High. I was also the prettiest girl in town, and knew it."

Kala snorted, trying not to laugh, and Lana just smiled. "I was vainer than anyone you know, Kala, and a bit stuck-up, too. I was also a … the word used to be 'goody two-shoes', but I'm sure you call it something else these days."

"I kinda got the impression you weren't exactly smoking behind the gym or sneaking off army bases like Mom," Kala said affectionately.

That made Lana grin. Lois was definitely not the kind of person she would've associated with in those days; the fact that the reporter was now one of her closest friends said a lot about how her own attitudes had changed. She still mostly had the same morals for herself, but was far less inclined to apply them to other people.

"So," Lana resumed, "suffice it to say that although I'd been dating Brad for several months, he'd never gotten more than a kiss from me. He _said_ he respected me, but then I caught him necking with the school tramp."

Kala hissed, and Lana chuckled. "It's funny now. I was _furious_ then. Jealousy has always been one of my flaws, and I was determined to show Brad that I couldn't be trifled with. He didn't know I'd seen him, you see. So I planned my revenge. That same afternoon, as we were all leaving school, I walked up to another boy and kissed him, just to make Brad jealous. Quite a kiss, too. And when he would've pounded that other boy into the dust, I told Brad that if he could, then I could too." Actually, she'd commented that what was sauce for the gander was as good for the goose, but Kala wouldn't understand that old saying.

"Oh, burn," Kala winced. "But I'd never do anything like that to Dustin. If we were dating and he cheated on me, I'd just ditch him. Anybody else, I'd probably kick their butt."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Lana said, already flinching a little. "The boy I kissed?"

"Yeah?" Kala said.

"He was your father." Kala's mouth dropped open, her eyes going wide, and Lana continued with a poise she didn't feel. "Clark had a huge crush on me back then, but he was always a gentleman. I knew I could trust him."

"Aww, poor Dad," Kala said with the slightest pout, then gave the smallest hopeful shrug. "But, at least, you know, he got the kiss from a girl he _liked_. I mean, the aftermath had to suck, but…"

"It was his first kiss, too," Lana sighed with clear remorse.

The girl's wince was a grimace this time, echoing the sigh. "Ooh, that's worse, knowing Daddy. Double burn on that one."

Lana nodded. "Your father – and now I know who he is, and why he never pursued me, and how easily he could've just swatted Brad halfway across the country – got his first kiss from the girl he was madly in love with, but only because she wanted to make her boyfriend jealous."

"Ouch." Clark's daughter was looking at her with a pained expression. "Geez, Lana!"

"Now, doesn't that make me sound terribly petty?" The redhead smile was sad with she turned to look at her. "And I regret it to this day. I'm glad I didn't wind up with Clark – I couldn't put up with the things your mother does, plus I think I would bore him senseless – but I am sorry that we have that between us. After all these years as friends, and as close as we are now, Clark means more to me than Brad ever could. I'd rather we never kissed than have the first be like _that_."

Kala gnawed at her lower lip, and Lana could see her drawing the parallels for herself. She waited; with Kala, it was generally best to let her figure things out rather than tell her what she was supposed to conclude. After a while, Kala met Lana's patient gaze. "I don't want Dustin to remember me for being a shallow brat who used him to make herself feel better," she said flatly.

"Because that's not you," Lana replied as evenly. "Your mistakes don't become who you are. They're just opportunities to learn and improve. I did something vain and silly, but that doesn't define me now."

Kala nodded, looking thoughtful and much more relaxed. That was the best opportunity to press a point. "Incidentally," Lana said casually, "you may want to think about how you let yourself be defined. Is it really necessary to compete with Jason for everything? I'm an only child, so I can't presume to know what it's like for a twin, but that's a question you may want to ask yourself."

That earned a gusty sigh from Kala as she thought it over. "Well, yeah, honestly. It kinda is," she said, the reply tentative.

"Then I'd suggest you figure out a way to compete that doesn't end with both of you in disgrace," Lana said, her voice a trifle stern. When Kala flinched, Lana relented, knowing how quickly the girl could turn resentful. "Come on now. Let's go inside and have some cookies. And if you look repentant and make apologies, maybe everyone will assume I scolded you enough."

Kala got up with a rueful smile. Lana counted the interview a success … until she went carefully down the ladder, and a trick of the barn's acoustics allowed her to hear Kala sigh below. "Why can't talking to Mom be this easy?" That wasn't the sentiment Lana wanted to leave her with, but if she called Kala on it now, she would likely only get a sullen fight for having overheard the girl's half-muttered thought.

As they headed inside, Lana reminded herself to find a reason to talk to Kala on the subject. Soon.

* * *


	15. Interim: Objects in the RearView Mirror

* * *

Kala opened the apartment door and Kristin sauntered in ahead of her. The Lane-Kents were watching Little K for a week, while Lana and Richard drove home, making every hotel stop between Smallville and Metropolis into a tenth-anniversary celebration. Or so Kala had overheard Lois mutter wryly.

That was fine by Kala; she had her little sister mostly to herself for a week. Surely she could arrange something suitably horrifying to Lana's sensibilities. Maybe dye Kristin's hair again, or better yet, paint her fingernails and toenails black. With silver glitter in the top coat. Yes, now _that_ would work, and Kristin would show off her pretty nail polish to everyone. Richard would laugh, Lana would hang her head in despair, and Kristin would think the whole thing was hilarious.

The thought entertained her until she heard a quiet giggle from down the hallway. Kala froze. She _knew_ that laugh, and it had no place in the apartment when no one else was home. "Hey, Kristin?" she said sweetly. "Wanna watch some cartoons?"

"Mommy says I can't watch more than two hours of TV," the little girl worried.

"I won't tell if you don't," Kala replied, adding, "_Kim Possible_ is on."

That was enough to send Kristin scampering happily into the living room, where Kala turned on the cartoon for her. Then the teenager headed down the hall, stealthily silent as only someone who possessed super-hearing could be.

Jason spoke, but Kala was so focused on her own sounds that she couldn't tell what he said, just picking up the apologetic murmur of his voice. His answer sounded saccharine-sweet and almost teasing, a combination that made Kala's stomach churn. She was close enough to Jason's door to give up stealth and pounce.

Kala flung the door open and barged into her brother's bedroom, bellowing, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" as loud as she dared. She was both sickened and relieved by what she saw.

Giselle sat up, her eyes wide with shock, but she was sitting on the side of the bed, with Jason a foot or so away. That mollified Kala's worst fears, until she noticed that Giselle's blouse was untucked … and Jason's shirt was buttoned wrong. "Oh, hell no," Kala hissed, her voice shaking with fury.

"Kal…" Jason began, his cheeks flaming red, but his girlfriend cut him off.

"Who do you think you are?" Giselle snapped. "Charging in here! _God!_"

"Shut the fuck up, gutter slut," Kala snarled, and wheeled on Jason. "Better question is, _where_ do you think you are? Jase, you _know_ you can't have the tramp in your room with the door closed! She's not even supposed to be here when no one else is home!"

Giselle's shocked expression had turned ugly with anger. "Watch your mouth," she retorted, outraged. "You can't talk to me like that!"

"Watch me, bitch," Kala spat, not even bothering to look at the other girl. "Jason, yank whatever's left of your IQ out of your pants! _Mom_ could've come home any minute, and _then_ what would you do? Or worse yet, what if I hadn't heard the gold-digger snickering and let _Kristin_ come up here? Wanna try explaining this to your baby sister?"

"Kal, _nothing's going on,_" Jason insisted, glancing over to see Giselle's furious and hurt expression.

Kala made a rude noise and grabbed his shirt. "Really? Because this shirt sure as hell was buttoned right earlier today. And I don't think the blouse on her is supposed to be all untucked and riding up in the back."

"That's enough," Giselle said, her voice rising shrill with outrage. "I don't have to hear this from you, Kala – you're no snow-white angel yourself. I can kiss your brother if I want. I'm his _girlfriend_ – _you_ don't even bother to date a guy first."

Kala's eyes bulged, and the look she turned on Jason was murderous. "You _told_ her about that with Dustin?!"

"No," Jason said, blushing more fiercely. "I think she means Caleb … but while we're talking about Dustin, Kala, you're being a hypocrite, you know."

"Difference is, _Dustin's_ a good guy – he's been our friend forever, and he's _not_ trying to get into my pants," Kala shot back.

"Wasn't how it looked," Jason replied hotly.

Considering that all she'd done was kiss Dustin, that was going way too far. Grinding her teeth, Kala growled, "Get out, Giselle."

"How about _you_ get out of my room?" Jason said. "I invited Giselle; you just practically busted the door down."

"I'm your _twin sister_," Kala retorted, "and I _live here_. Not to mention I sleep in here every now and then, so it's as much my room as yours. _She's_ not family, she's not supposed to be here, and _she_ needs to leave. _Now._" The look she aimed at Giselle was clearly threatening.

Jason caved. "Giselle…" he began.

She got up, yanking her blouse straight and looking at Jason with tears glittering in her eyes. "Thanks for sticking up for me," she whispered with cutting sarcasm, and then fled the room.

Jason sighed heavily, and Kala just stood there staring at him, her arms crossed. "What the hell were you thinking?" she said, and for the first time her voice was bewildered instead of furious. "You were never this hormonally brain-damaged when you were with Elise!"

"Kala, _she's my girlfriend_," Jason explained for what seemed the thousandth time. "I'm not going back to Elise, so get over it, okay?"

Kala sat down heavily beside him, rubbing her temples in exasperation. "She's gonna hurt you, Jase. She's gonna hurt you bad, and you don't even see it! I know how she acts when she's away from you!"

"Can you blame her for being mean to you?" he retorted. "Kala, you've tried to run off _all_ my girlfriends! Most of them either hate you or they're scared of you."

"I don't care that she hates me, you twit," Kala exclaimed. "She's not good enough for you! None of them were, really, except _maybe _Elise. Your problem is, you can't just have a girlfriend – it has to be this big epic romance like Mom and Dad, and _none_ of the girls, you couldn't tell _any_ of them what you'll have to tell them." She sighed, hugging herself, and added, "And in case you haven't noticed, Mom and Dad's happily-ever-after isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Jason echoed her sigh. Both twins knew their parents were going through a rough patch, but neither of them knew why. "She'll probably break up with me after this," Jason muttered gloomily. "At the very least she won't want to come over for New Year's."

"What a loss," Kala grumbled.

His patience exhausted, Jason grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her. "Stop it, Kal!" he snapped. "She's my girlfriend! Have a _little_ respect, okay?"

"Respect?" she retorted. "How am I supposed to respect you when you're rolling around shirtless with that little slut?"

"I was not rolling around," Jason growled. "Geez, Kal, all we did was _kiss_. Quit having a hissy fit."

"Yeah, Mom would be so happy to know her 'pwecious widdle boy' was smooching Jezebel behind closed doors," Kala said, dragging out the big guns.

"You're not gonna tell." Jason sat up as he said it, staring at her.

Kala let him stew for a few seconds before rolling her eyes. "No, Dopey, I'm not gonna _tattle_. But you listen here, Amazing Lizard Boy. _Don't_ let it get past kissing, okay? She's not the one. Whether I hate her or not, you know that much is true." Her hazel eyes stared at him challengingly.

"I _know_," Jason groused. "It's not like I'm gonna marry her or something. We're just dating – like you and your last five boyfriends. Calm down, all right?"

Mollified for the moment by her brother's evident sanity, Kala got up. Besides, she didn't want to start all the nonsense about Dustin again. _That_ had been a mistake on her part, using a good friend that way, and even though Jason and Dustin had been on speaking terms again by the time the Kents returned to Metropolis, Kala didn't need to give her brother any more ammunition. "Fine," she said at last. "I only worry 'cause I love you. You know that, right, Jase?"

"Nah, you worry because you're as neurotic as a long-tailed cat growing up in a rocking-chair factory," Jason replied, and both twins laughed. A little less exuberantly than was normal for them, but close enough to assuage their fears. For now.

Kala left, and Jason fell back on his bed and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. What he wouldn't tell his sister – or anyone else – was that it had actually been a bit more than kissing.

He'd known from the moment they got to the apartment that they were alone. That didn't really interest him, at first; Jason was used to being trusted by his parents, and he had occasionally been alone with his other girlfriends. Knowing that his superhero father and his nosy twin sister both had sharp enough hearing to catch him even _thinking_ about making out tended to put a damper on his romantic ambitions, anyway.

Giselle, however, had been fascinated. She was the one who'd whispered, "Let's pretend it's _our_ house," strolling into the kitchen to bring him a drink. They'd watched the news together, Giselle rubbing his shoulder while he sipped Sprite on the rocks. She'd wanted to explore the apartment, but Jason stopped her from going into Mom's study, and somehow they had wound up in his bedroom instead.

And then he was kissing her, she was kissing him, and Jason didn't know how he wound up lying on his side with Giselle fitting the curves of her body to his. Both her hands slid under his shirt, a little gasp of surprise from her as she discovered how toned he was beneath the slightly loose shirts he wore. Somehow buttons were being undone and she was kissing his neck and Jason caught the back of her blouse and pulled it up and bared perfect skin the color of caramel and cream, and he thought of kissing her belly, just there, and all of a sudden the world was afire…

Shock made him pull away. That and embarrassment; cuddled closely as she was, Giselle _had_ to know what this was doing to him. He had blushed, and she had laughed, a soft knowing laugh accompanied by a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Too fast," he'd whispered, trying to force his blood flow back into his brain.

"That's supposed to be my line," Giselle had purred, not backing away, just watching him with a heated look.

Jason had swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and re-buttoned his shirt clumsily. "Mom could be home any minute," he'd explained.

Giselle had sat up at last, chuckling. "You really need to come by my house sometime," she'd said. "Mom's almost _never_ home." And then Kala had practically ripped the door off its hinges, hurling insults, and not even sweet Giselle could take that kind of abuse. Jason owed her an apology; Kala would never be sorry.

Jason groaned; it seemed like nothing was going right at the moment. His relationship with Giselle was hanging by a thread, Kala was being psychotic, and _something_ was up with Mom and Dad. For a moment he wished he could be six again and free of worrying about it all. Six years old, everything his parents did was incomprehensible, but he _expected_ it to be because they were adults, almost another species. And at six, having a girlfriend meant holding hands at recess. So much easier than his life now…

But at six, he hadn't had the powers, and he'd been sick so often it was a surprise to wake up feeling _great_ after that first sunbath with Dad. Jason sighed heavily, thinking that there _were_ advantages to growing up. He just wished the disadvantages weren't so obvious.

…

Lois had arrived home to a fairly subdued house, and after greeting all three children she'd gone up into the study with a cup of coffee and her messenger bag in tow and closed the door behind her, showing no signs of her inner excitement to anyone. It was only when she was alone that she closed her eyes, leaning back against the cool wood of the door with a steely determination. Calming her racing mind before starting her nightly round of research was the top priority at the moment. Being this close, knowing which files were in her bag, it would be all too easy to get overly-excited and let some of the information she had been digging for, _any_ of the information she'd been digging for, slip around the wrong person. And that couldn't happen, not when she was this close…

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her hair out of the French twist it was currently braided into as she made her way to her desk, kicking her heels off as she pulled the desk chair out and booted up the laptop. She made herself take her time, knowing that Clark was in meetings with his department heads most of the afternoon to discuss the new upgrades and changes that were coming up in the New Year. Lois herself had done it the moment she had returned to work, City being informed as soon as she had dropped her purse in her office and made sure that all of her people had made it in. Clark, on the other hand, had been trying to balance the return to both of his 'jobs' at the same time, to the point that three days had passed before he had been able to get around to the 'urgent' meeting with only a day before he had to sign off on it. What was worse, his promise of being with the family without running off to rescue had only lasted until the plane had landed back in New Troy and then they had been back to sudden absences that they would have to explain to Kristin at a moment's notice.

Didn't it occur to him that she couldn't always explain his long lunches away, especially long lunches that didn't include his wife or any other management at the paper? When he had been a reporter, the sudden departures had just enhanced his reputation, most especially because he nearly always had a story to cover those disappearances. Now it just looked like a lack of interest in his position. _Such a shame that he has to decide whether the JLA or the Daily Planet should come first. Never mind that he has a family to worry about; they'll understand the same way they always have. Good thing his wife's an amazing liar and an absolute saint._ She felt contempt rise in her, but stifled it. She was a hero's wife, something she had been more than willing to become, and she knew better than to dwell on this. What good would it do? Unhappy or not, she had made her choice.

Besides, this wasn't helping, letting herself get wrapped up in this. Better to think on something else, like how odd it was to be home this early and with only her current project. Both she and Clark were taking half-days until after the first of the month, due to their having Kristin until her parents made it in from their 'second honeymoon', driving Richard's convertible back to Metropolis from Kansas. Her husband had referred to it as the scenic route, although she herself called it the 'sex drive' and had told the pair of them so the last time they called. Still remembering the way Lana had squawked over that had her grinning to herself as she dropped into the chair and pulled the files out of her bag.

After this afternoon's trip into the archives, Lois was eager to match the articles she'd copied with the information on the flash drive she'd finally wheedled out of Erik Eastlake. _Proprietary_ information on L-Tech, all the accounting stuff that was presented to the shareholders and not the general public, as well as the blurbs from research and development that the company used to secure more capital. Erik had made as if to hand her flash drive, then jerked it back teasingly, giving Lois a wide grin. "They told us we're not to share this information with anyone except our spouses," he'd said flirtatiously.

Lois had tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that broadcast _oh, come on_ louder than any words. Her answering smile was the bait he couldn't resist, and he'd put the flash drive into her hands. The triumph in Lois' eyes had unnerved him a little, and he had asked, "You're sure you're not doing an exposé on the company?"

Since Lois had no intention of sharing the information she was gleaning, she'd been completely truthful in answering, "Of course not." Then she'd had to embroider her story a little, since Eastlake wouldn't be so cooperative if he realized she was using him to hunt her old enemy, Lex Luthor, who in his hubris could not resist naming the company after his initials, who had called the breakthrough processor the KAL chip just to aggravate Lois.

"It would do the _Planet_ a lot of good to upgrade, if L-Tech is as advanced as you say," Lois had lied blithely. "But we're also talking about a huge amount of money and prestige for them if we decide to convert to their product. If we take that step, L-Tech will also start getting a lot of business from our subsidiaries – and our competition. Raines at the _Star_ won't be left too far behind if she can help it. A _lot _rides on this, Erik. I won't risk my paper's reputation dealing with a company I know next to nothing about." He had acquiesced, asking only if she could keep a secret. Lois had grinned knowingly and purred, "You'd be amazed the kinds of secrets I can keep." That, at least, was the pure truth. Eastlake hadn't the slightest clue about Clark's alter ego.

"Lo-Lo?" The plaintive little voice fractured Lois' concentration just as she was beginning to scroll through the list of documents on the flash drive. Kristin stood in the doorway, looking mournful. "Can I color in here?"

"Sure, cuddlebug," Lois said, stretching a hand out to the little girl. It had wounded her that she and Clark were unable to have any more children, and when Lucy and Loueen _and_ Lana all turned up pregnant in the same year, the reporter had been almost sick with envy. But this red-haired little sweetheart helped ease some of those regrets. Kristin was touchingly devoted to all four of her parents and to her two older siblings, an affection that resulted in some odd questions when kids in her school were asked to draw pictures of their family, but brought only joy to those who loved her.

Kristin climbed happily into Lois' lap for a hug, paying not even cursory attention to the lines of text on the computer screen. "I think Jason an' Kala are 'noring me," she sighed, leaning in to let the reporter hold her. "'Cept Kala told me it wasn't my fault; she just doesn't feel good. I think they had a fight. Jason's girlfriend was here and Kala was actin' mad when she left. Jason never came out of his room."

Lois noted that, but she trusted her son even if she didn't particularly trust Giselle. The girl's presence would obviously have provoked a typically outrageous display of temper from Kala, which explained the fight. "Sometimes brothers and sisters argue," Lois told the youngest, stroking Kristin's incredibly soft hair back from her freckled face. "They'll get over it and make up soon enough."

"I won't ever fight with 'em," Kristin declared from her perch, squeezing Lois' neck in a tight hug. "I'm always gonna be a good frien' and the bestest l'il sister ever."

"I'm sure you will, honey," Lois murmured, kissing the top of her head before leaning her cheek there. The cherry scent of the little girl's hair made her smile, the tradition of smelly shampoo Richard had started with the twins continuing. A sharp pang of longing in her heart reminded her of the endless but harmless bickering the twins had done when they were Kristin's age. Now it seemed all they did was _fight_, not simply quarrel, and they had expanded their targets to their parents.

More specifically, to Lois herself. Jason and Kala were both still too in awe of their father's reputation to argue with Superman, and their attempts to embroil Richard or Lana in the strife had been singularly unsuccessful. It was Lois who took the brunt of their belligerence, especially from Kala, although Jason had been temperamental a time or two as well.

Although in Kala's defense, the teenager had come to Lois after Christmas and apologized. "I was a shithead," Kala had murmured guiltily, putting the required quarter for the cursing jar in Lois' hand. Looking wounded, the girl had held her arms out and asked, "Can I get a hug?" Lois loved her daughter as much as she had the first moment those unfocused blue eyes had looked up at her in the delivery room, and she'd held Kala tight. Things between them had been rather better than usual since then, and the two had even spent an evening cuddling on the couch, eating popcorn, and watching old Banacek reruns.

In memory of that moment of increasingly rare connection with her daughter, Lois squeezed Kristin a little tighter. The redhead squirmed and Lois let up, setting Kristin down beside her. "Do you want to use my colored pens?" Lois asked, and got an enthusiastic agreement. Wondering why office pens and highlighters were so attractive when crayons were available, Lois set up the youngest child with paper and pens and let Kristin curl up on the couch to draw.

The reporter returned her attention to the documents in front of her. She delved first into some of the research and development, but it was so jargon-laden that her head began to hurt on the second page. Lois had taken some night classes on computers and networking years ago, not wanting to leave vital skills out of her journalistic portfolio, but this was far beyond her. And far beyond most of the men investing in it as well, she thought. Documents like this existed to impress, not to edify, and Lois skimmed through them before returning to something she knew.

One of Perry's many axioms was _When in doubt, follow the money._ Lois began untangling the financial reports, looking for unusual fluctuations in revenue and large investments of capital. It seemed that L-Tech had been in existence for ten years, another point of concurrence with her suspicions, but for the first five it operated at a loss. Vast sums were poured into R&D but the company applied for no patents and marketed no products. Frustratingly, the first few reports didn't track the source of the capital.

Then Lois struck pay dirt, and only Kristin's presence kept her from shouting her triumph. L-Tech had recognized some of its 'key contributors' when the first patents were applied for and the revenue began to roll in. It was a long list, populated by investment firms instead of individuals, but it was a lead.

Halfway down the page Lois saw the name Eagle Capital Investments, Incorporated. That was the same firm to which Erik and his father belonged, the one that held a large stake in the _Daily Planet_. Lois' journalistic instinct awoke, sniffing like a bloodhound on the trail. She'd thought it a stroke of luck that someone who held stock in her paper was able to give her information on L-Tech, but what if it was more than mere coincidence? So far she had no evidence to support that, but her hunches were rarely wrong.

Lois pulled out the articles the _Daily Planet_ had run on ECI Inc, especially the ones from before the firm's investment in the newspaper. Within half an hour of eye-straining reading, she hit the jackpot. Lois' diligence was rewarded with another stock investment company, one that had infused lots of capital into ECI Inc and might still hold a controlling interest: _Vanderworth _Holdings Limited. The name meant that, whether or not Lex had been involved before the events surrounding Kal-El's return, Luthor certainly now had his talons in … the _Daily Planet_?!

Fear turned Lois' spine to ice, and she began cross-checking more information, looking for concrete evidence. She became absorbed in her work, delighting in that old sizzle along the nerve endings that meant she was on a hot story, and never noticed the passage of daylight across the wall or the way that Kristin eventually dropped off to sleep. Lois' trance didn't break until the study door opened, and she jumped a little, suddenly noticing how dark it had gotten. On the heels of that came a headache from staring at the computer screen for so long.

"I brought you a drink," Clark said gently, smiling at her. His expression faltered slightly when she hurriedly closed the laptop, but Lois counted on her lifelong habit of guarding her sources to protect her. Clark couldn't know yet; he still didn't know about the deal she'd made with Luthor. He couldn't know until she'd tracked down the megalomaniac and presented all her information to Clark, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

"Thank you," Lois murmured as he set down the drink. She stretched, feeling her back pop, and glanced over at Kristin who was snoring contentedly. A look of regret passed her features when it truly hit home how long she'd been riveted. "I think I let the little one sleep through dinner…"

"The other two had catch and fetch," Clark said dryly, kissing Lois' hair. "Leftover macaroni and pierogies, by the smell, with alfredo sauce on the whole mess."

"Yuck," Lois groaned, making a face at the thought. "Thank God for their lightning-fast metabolisms or else they'd be up all night. I guess I should get Kristin up and make something."

"I brought a couple pizzas home. She can have a slice, and so can you if you beat the super-metabolism twins to it."

_So that's why he didn't feel the need to come get Kristin before now. Why am I not surprised?_ Fighting to keep the trickle of annoyance out of her voice, she commented lightly. "Oh, did you just get in?"

"I've been here a while." Just as she had expected it to be, the answer was evasive, smooth. Not entirely unexpected, either; their verbal fencing had been more like a jousting tournament lately. "I just didn't want to disturb you. You haven't moved for four hours, Lois – have a drink, have some pizza, and turn off the computer for the night. I promise not to scoop you." With that he slid his arms around her, nuzzling her hair, and Lois reached up to take comfort in his warmth and strength. After a moment, Clark continued, "I'll take Kristin downstairs, get her dinner, and get her settled in for the night. You take care of yourself – I won't have my wife wasting away to nothing for the sake of a story."

His tone wasn't exactly critical, but she couldn't help the guilt she felt at his words. That was the worst part of this: wanting to share the triumph of her discovery with him and knowing full well that she didn't dare. As he moved away from her, she watched his back with a melancholy expression. _I want to tell you, Kal-El; if you had the slightest idea why I'm doing this, you'd understand. I'm trying to protect you and the twins in my own way._ _When I'm finished with Luthor, I'll have enough evidence against him that he'll never get out of prison again, no matter what trick he tries. And I'll never have another nightmare of losing any of three of you again, the way I have for the last ten years. I made things safe and now I'm going to make things right. All I can hope is that you'll see why I did this._

In the end, knowing that she had no choice but to keep her silence for now, Lois sighed. When he turned with Kristin curled in his arms, prepared to take the little one downstairs, Lois simply turned back around to face the computer and all she could say was, "Yes, dear."

…

It was late, after dark and after love, but Richard hadn't drifted off into blissful dreams the way he normally did. He tried telling himself he was too tired to sleep, but that didn't work; they'd driven leisurely, planning nearly a week to travel the distance between Smallville and Metropolis, a trip Richard could make in a day if he had been alone and really pushed it. This pace was positively lazy, ambling along scenic routes and stopping at fine hotels long before nightfall. This was about as perfect a tenth-anniversary trip as Richard could imagine, so why was he lying awake and staring up at the hotel room's ceiling?

Lana turned gently in his arms, her long hair tickling his bare chest. "Can't sleep?" she murmured, and even in the dark he could see the concern in those sea-green eyes.

"Nah," he sighed. "You?"

"I _should_ be exhausted," she chuckled, and the smile that curved her lips was irresistible. Richard leaned in and kissed her, his hands roaming beneath the sheets until she caught his wrists and nipped his jaw. "Stop, Richard. Once was decadent; twice won't help either of us sleep."

Richard gave her his best pleading look, and Lana laughed, kissing him, but she wouldn't relent. He gave in, snuggling close, and murmured, "Is what's bothering you the same as what's bothering me?"

"Probably. Lois and Clark?"

"It might be nothing," Richard mused. "They might be lying cuddled as close as we are right now, without a care in the world."

Lana sighed in the darkness. "I wish I believed that. I don't think it's that easy. Whatever was going on at Christmas wasn't just a momentary argument."

"They're in trouble," Richard said flatly. He had wanted to delay this conversation, to pretend their idyllic second honeymoon could remain untouched by the rest of their lives, but it wouldn't happen. The problems between Lois and Clark would haunt him and Lana until they talked about it. "I don't want them to split."

"Neither do I," she replied, and her voice had gone hushed. "So why haven't either of us done anything about it?"

Ten years ago, Richard might've wondered if that question was a veiled way of asking why _he_ hadn't done anything about it. He knew by now, though, that Lana didn't play those kinds of games. If she felt the need to take him to task, she would do it without trying to veil her intent. Rather than be annoyed, he appreciated her honesty. Knowing how straightforward she was with rebukes made her praise more valuable to him. He blew out a frustrated sigh that flipped a stray lock of hair off his forehead. "Why haven't we? Well, I'm sure you were trying to be tactful," he said. "As for me, well, I don't know what to do. They're not an ordinary couple, you know."

"Yes, they are," Lana corrected him gently. "And if they have one main problem, it's that they tend to forget it, too."

Richard looked at her askance, raising his eyebrows. Lana smiled at him; she found his dubious expression very endearing, but didn't let it distract her from her point. "Richard, when you met him, Clark knew who he was – he had been the hero for several years, and he knew about his heritage. Lois met him when he knew where he'd come from, and she was there when he started on his heroic career. But I knew him when he was a _child_. Martha and Jonathan didn't tell him how they'd found him, and by the time he was Kristin's age, all he remembered was the two of them. He was raised as a human, and I knew him when he had no reason to believe he wasn't one of us."

Nodding slowly, Richard smothered a touch of envy. Lana had known the world's defender much longer than anyone but Martha, and that intimacy gave her a connection that rivaled Lois'. However, only Richard could claim he'd taught Superman how to fly, even if he was referring to single-prop aircraft, so he figured they were even.

"Clark may be from another planet, he may have powers you and I can only wonder at, but in his mind _he is human_," Lana said. "He was raised to be a man, a human man, and he has the same sorts of problems that any man does. He has some unique issues, true – it must be very strange to always have to be careful how you handle people, knowing you could break ribs with a careless hug – but for the most part he's another guy. A particularly cautious and ethical guy."

"You're right," Richard said after a moment's reflection. "Most of the time I forget who he is. He's just Clark to me."

"That's one of the reasons why he loves you," Lana said. "Anyway, what I think's happened is this. Clark and Lois both forget that just because they're the star-crossed epic romance of the century, they still have to do the little things that keep a relationship functioning. They're trusting destiny, and destiny … destiny sweeps the floors, but it doesn't dust the mantels, if you get my meaning."

Richard couldn't help laughing, nuzzling her hair in amusement. "That's the last metaphor I would've used for the two of them, but I get you. It works."

Chuckling, Lana said, "Destiny writes headlines, but it doesn't research articles. Does that work better for you?"

"Yeah, I know, love. We had to do our share of dusting the mantels." Richard went quiet as he looked into the depths of her eyes, one hand lightly rubbing along her spine. He and Lana had had their struggles early in their marriage. The beginning of their relationship had seemed almost too good to be true, and the last eight years had been heavenly. But the time between them settling into being married and when Kristin was born hadn't been easy. It had been harder than Richard could've imagined, and both of them fell silent remembering their shadowed time.

Lana's pregnancy had been hard on all of them. Many women were moody thanks to the hormonal imbalances and drastic changes in their bodies, but Lana had reacted worse than most. Her worst personality flaw had come raging to the forefront, making her incredibly possessive of Richard. She'd even had a jealous fit when a woman answered his phone at work, too paranoid to accept the simple explanation that the receptionist was _supposed_ to take calls when someone's line was busy. Only learning that said receptionist was a very young-sounding fifty years old had calmed her, but Lana remembered those waspish months with bitter self-recrimination even now.

Worse, she'd been madly jealous of _Lois_ during that time. Richard would have liked to turn to Lois and Clark for support, but he couldn't speak to his ex without triggering angry recriminations from Lana. That didn't hurt him as much as he'd thought it would – he knew she wasn't fully in control of herself, and she'd warned him she was jealous-natured when they were only _discussing_ a relationship. What wounded Richard so deeply was the way Lana would realize how she was behaving and turn her anger on _herself_. She was far more severe in self-recrimination than in anything she said to Richard, and he couldn't convince her to stop, since the things she said and felt about herself had more than a grain of truth to them. She _was_ irrational, she _was_ paranoid, she _was_ cruel to him, and when the first rush of her anger drained away, Lana knew he deserved none of it. She'd wept bitterly over her foolishness each time, believing that she would eventually drive Richard away, but helpless to stop the next jealous rage.

Those were unhappy months, and even now the memory of them brought a cramp of pain to Lana's expression. Richard caught her hand, squeezing her fingers tightly. "Stop it," he said sternly. "I _knew_ you weren't completely in control of yourself. I could deal with that. I just couldn't handle watching you hate yourself. Lana, get real. You are far kinder and more forgiving than most people on this planet. Learn to forgive yourself, okay? It was over a long time ago."

"You didn't deserve all that," she replied softly, bending her head to kiss his collarbone.

"You gave me Kristin," was Richard's immediate response, deftly overriding whatever she would have said next. "She's worth every moment of it. And you've been extra nice to me for the last eight years, especially in bed, so…"

Lana saw the salacious smirk, and finally laughed. "You are _impossible_, Richard White. Is there _anything_ you won't turn into an excuse to flirt?"

"Not really, no," he chuckled, and tickled her side until she swatted at him. The moment of levity aside, they returned to the problem at hand. "So Lois and Clark are slacking off on the small stuff because they're soul mates?"

"And their problem is a fairly ordinary one, if my guess is right," Lana said. "Think of him like any other man dedicated to a cause that doesn't exactly let you go off-duty. Something like a doctor, a fireman, or a minister. He's driven by other people's need for him. And he thinks that just because _he_ knows he loves his family and they're important to him, that they know it too."

"But that's something you have to _show_ people, it's not like you can tell them or psychically expect them to figure it out," Richard said. He and Lana had learned that early in their relationship as well. They were so close in so many ways that they both sometimes forgot that the other didn't know what they were thinking. "And he has been getting kind of hard to reach the last few months. Seems like I see him on TV more than in person."

"And if Lois feels the same way, she wouldn't say anything to Clark about it. Her biggest weakness is her fear of being weak."

"That's very Zen of you," Richard teased gently, "but it makes sense. It takes a hell of a lot of strength to admit you're scared or you can't do something."

"Especially when you've spent your life trying to prove there's nothing you fear, nothing you can't do," Lana sighed. "I could smack her father senseless… Anyway, this is all speculation – we need to talk to them to find out what's really going on."

Richard scowled. "That's the part I'm worried about. I'm worried about them, but is it our place to call them out? Lois at least will resent us butting in."

"Too bad," Lana said, her tone showing the steel that lurked beneath her gracious and accommodating demeanor. "I love them both too much to watch them hurt each other. And I hope they'd do the same for us, if we were having problems again."

"I feel the same way, but still…" Richard trailed off, tracing his fingertips idly along her side. It felt like an intrusion to him, calling Lois and Clark out the way Lana apparently intended to.

"But still, whose place is it if not ours?" Lana countered. "Who else on the face of this earth is going to tell Superman he's being a less-than-perfect husband and father? Not his mother. Martha doesn't see it, partly because she doesn't see _them_ as often as we do, and partly because he's her son. Ella would have seen it…"

"And given them both a tongue-lashing," Richard said affectionately. "God, I miss that woman."

Lana kissed him, sliding one arm around his shoulder, and they held each other as she murmured against his neck, "I know, love. I miss her too. She had such a gift for knowing what all of us were thinking and helping us work through things… It's my task, now. Someone has to be the voice of reason in this family. I may not be her child in blood, but she knew I was going to inherit her position as family peacemaker."

"Is that what she told you, when…?" Richard asked, almost shyly. When Ella had spoken separately to each member of the family from her deathbed, she hadn't told them not to share her final words with the others, but they had all kept those conversations in confidence. It was almost as if the nearness of death had turned Ella into some kind of oracle, and each person feared to alter their prophecy by speaking of it with the others. So far as Richard knew, not even Jason and Kala had shared what their grandmother told each of them with the other.

"Among other things," Lana answered. "So we'll confront them? Because we love them both, and because no one else will force them to see what they're doing to each other?"

"But not 'til after New Year's," Richard cautioned. "Lois is so worried about hosting the party, if we add any more stress, she's liable to go nuts and start throwing furniture off the balcony or something. I don't want to be responsible for that."

"Until New Year's," Lana agreed. "You know what they say about New Year's Day. Maybe if we talk to them then, they'll spend the year getting back to normal."

"Sounds good to me," Richard said, relieved, and kissed Lana's forehead.

She tilted her face up and caught his lip between her teeth for a teasing nibble. "If that's settled," Lana purred, "maybe I could be persuaded to change my thoughts about an encore?"

Richard was only too happy to take up the challenge.

…

Clark stared up at the ceiling, listening to Lois' even breathing beside him. She was well and truly asleep, which wasn't all that surprising when he considered that she'd gotten up early, gone in to the office for a few hours, and then spent most of the evening working on her computer. He'd gone into her office once to bring her something to drink, and Lois had closed the laptop the moment he walked in. _That_ was becoming uncomfortably familiar. Ever since just before Christmas, Lois had been very secretive about whatever she was working on.

That wasn't uncommon when Lois was chasing a lead, and when he'd asked her what she was up to she'd blithely told him it was research. The answer would have satisfied him, if Clark had never glimpsed Erik Eastlake's name in her email. In fact, there had been several messages from the young investor in Lois' inbox, and Clark had once interrupted a phone conversation between the two. They'd been discussing networks and servers, but Clark had heard the laughter in Lois' voice. And she was being secretive again, taking off for lunch meetings she never filled in on the calendar at work, hiding her briefcase and clearing her browsing history on the computer.

He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't wonder and suspect. He really ought to just stamp out that nagging little _what if_ voice, but somehow he just … couldn't. Clark tried to force the thought away, looking over at Lois. Her face softened with sleep, and the sight of her struck him anew, so vulnerable when she was normally so fiery. Love and anguish intertwined, filling his chest and strangling his throat. _I'm losing her…_

No. She was right there beside him, and he had no real evidence of what he feared most. He _knew_ she wasn't having an affair; ashamed of himself and unable to stop, Clark had taken to listening in to her at random intervals whenever she was out of his sight, and he'd always caught the tapping of computer keys or business conversations. But the question still nagged at him. She was faithful … but for how long? What if not even she knew what direction she was drifting in, letting the younger man get closer and closer to her heart everyday, unaware of where he would lead her?

Enough. This was too much, and if he let himself worry about it he'd never sleep. Clark needed his sleep more than ever lately, his various responsibilities tugging him in too many directions to count. Even his sunbaths were few and far between, and he felt the lack of them keenly. Sunlight could push back the need for sleep, and vice versa, but these days he was short of both.

Rolling over to snuggle up to Lois' back – and feeling wryly glad that she relaxed into his embrace – Clark turned his mind away from his fears with the reminder that they were _probably_ groundless. He had more concrete things to worry about, like the twins. Giselle's mother, Justine, had called to confirm her daughter's attendance of their New Year's Eve party, and Jason had been rather surprised by that. Something in the way his son had moped around that night hinted at an argument between them, and Clark had been annoyed with himself for hoping the couple had broken up. Giselle seemed like a nice enough girl, but Clark had overheard her making a few less-than-complimentary remarks about _him_.

That didn't bother him personally; it just meant his secret identity was more secure than ever. But Giselle had been rather harsher in her disdain than any of the other kids the twins hung out with, though careful not to let any of her remarks stray in Jason's hearing. The problem was that Clark could hear her talking to her mother while they were still in the car on the way over, and he was wary of any child who spoke so freely and so condescendingly of an adult. Maybe he was old-fashioned, but kids were supposed to respect their elders.

Come to think of it, that might be half of Kala's problem with Giselle. Clark knew his daughter's hearing was almost as keen as his, and she was intensely protective of his image. That could explain why her hatred of her brother's girlfriend had reached epic proportions, and why his own efforts at peacekeeping had become equally intense.

Even though he knew it would cause problems, he'd given Kala permission to go out on New Year's Eve. She and Sebast were planning on going to Fuel for a performance by the Flying Foxes, a local band that Kala admired. She'd even hinted that she might get a chance to sing if the band was running late, a frequent occurrence.

At first Clark had wanted to call off the whole party and go see his daughter perform. Singing at school was quite a bit different from opening for a band, even if the Stalmaster school sold tickets to the general public. Kala had downplayed his idea, though, reminding him that there was no guarantee she'd wind up onstage. Even if she did, it was more like karaoke than performance. She'd sounded much more excited last week when she had learned about Fuel's innovative way of filling time before performances, but Clark figured that she might be too nervous to sing in front of the family at the same time as a room full of strangers.

He had given her permission, insisting that she be home by midnight. The show should have been over just before then, to allow for the kind of wild revelry Clark didn't want her to participate in. And Sebast could be trusted to watch the time even if Kala got carried away. Clark had expected Lois to protest his decision when she heard of it, but she had only rolled her eyes and sighed.

Maybe things would be mostly all right for a little longer. Clark knew he needed to talk to Lois, but he couldn't accuse her. Hopefully he could figure out a way to broach the subject of their estrangement without infuriating her, and somehow get back to the way things used to be.

Clark caught his breath at that thought, remembering days and nights so perfect they seemed lifted from a dream of paradise. For a while it felt like nothing could go wrong, and even his occasional argument with Lois had always dissolved into kisses. The connection between them had been so strong that they finished each other's sentences, and Clark would no sooner notice he was thirsty than Lois would go get drinks for both of them. That sense of ultimate rightness had persisted, in spite of occasional wobbles, right up until Ella's death…

…and if anyone thought Lois was handling that well, they didn't know his wife. Lois had always subtly relied on her mother's support and understanding. Without it, she was swaying with every storm, dangerously close to breaking. Clark had expected her to take more time off last summer, but she had insisted that getting back to work would be the best thing for her, and her vehemence had finally swayed Perry. Clark knew how terrible it was to grieve for a parent, and he had relied heavily on Ma. Lois' mourning seemed to lock everyone else out, drawing a veil of normalcy over a core of hurt, and not even Clark could reach inside to comfort her.

But he was back to worrying over their problems again, and he'd spent enough sleepless nights on that account. Clark buried his nose in Lois' hair, breathing the comforting scent of sandalwood and rose, and made himself forget everything except the warmth of her in his arms.

* * *


	16. Act II: Threat: Five Minutes to Midnight

**First of all, let us apologize for the lateness of the post. There were some communication issues with the beta team and we just got them sorted out. **

**That said, welcome to Act II of Heirs and the largest chapter we've ever written. The idea was there to break it in two, but we thought it would mess with the momentum of the chapter, so we went with a single monstrous chapter. Hopefully everyone will forgive us the size. *hopeful*  
**

**There was also a request by a member of the beta team that we include a copy of a certain song with this guy, as it will be used toward the end. I am happily doing so, but I can't link it here because of FF's rules and you will have to imagine the differences in the voices. I'm not going to spoil it by telling you the title, but head over to my LJ for the download link and you'll know when to push 'play'. ;)**

* * *

The thought had been running across Lois' mind all morning. _Why the __**hell**__ am I working on New Year's Eve?_ _I feel like I'm in a freakin' time-loop. Wasn't I just asking myself this last week?_ She already knew the answer – there was simply too much to be done, and since Perry and Loueen had graciously offered to watch the younger kids during tonight's party, Lois couldn't leave the Chief to shoulder the day's burden alone. And this wasn't even bringing the fact that he had run Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for her while she'd made herself scarce in Kansas. It was the very least she could do.

Having just dropped in to bring Lois another stack of reports, Laurel had been attempting to stifle her mirth at her boss' increasing annoyance at the pile that just continued to mount in her 'In' tray. At the aggrieved sigh and roll of eyes Lois couldn't resist, the younger woman had to cough to cover up a bark of laughter. The sour look that was aimed at her didn't help much either. After a moment in which Laurel tried to get herself under control, Lois couldn't hide her smirk, giving a snort of amusement of her own before swatting her assistant with a folder. "Get out of here, you little creep. And don't bring me anything else until after lunch." When the girl opened her mouth for a comeback, Lois raised an eyebrow warningly and pointed for the door.

Knowing Lois was all talk and no action in her case, Laurel had turned to go out when Kevin Ames knocked on her office door. He held it for Laurel, on her way out with a grin and the signed documents, before coming in himself. "Got a minute?" he asked a trifle hesitantly, having noted the interaction of the women a moment before.

The assistant editor continued frowning at Laurel through the glass before looking up with a haggard smile. "Sure. Laurel's a full-time and on-going problem. It'll keep. How can I help you?" Ames was one of the younger reporters, hired two years or so ago, if Lois' memory served.

He handed her a couple of typed sheets of paper as he sat down. "Do you think we can run this on the front of Metro tomorrow?"

Lois scanned the story quickly before answering. It looked good, certainly good enough to be front page material. She couldn't remember what was _supposed _to be on the front of that section today, but that just meant it likely wasn't as catchy as the article in her hands. "I don't see why not," Lois said with a smile. "Let me check a few things and I'll run it for you."

"Thanks," Ames said, brightening up. Lois chuckled as he let himself out of her office; some of the newer staff members were a little intimidated by the star reporter turned administrator. At least this one had something good to report about his boss.

Finishing up a few more things, Lois took a handful of papers and Ames' article into Perry's office. "Hey, old man," she called out affectionately. "I'm not gonna do your _whole_ job for you while you kick back and dream of secretaries half your age."

"One secretary, and I made an honest woman of her," Perry groused. "What the hell do you want, Lane?"

"Somehow a fossil like you even managed to knock her up," Lois shot back. "Now come on already, I need your approval on this so I can go home. The girls are all coming to my place, except for Loueen, and I need to get a five-drink head start to deal with them all."

"Spare me, Lane, they're _your_ friends," Perry muttered, looking through the paperwork. He sighed heavily and stared up at her. "Why d'you need my approval on this, again? You're assistant editor, Lois, sign it and quit bothering me."

"_Assistant_ Editor," Lois said sharply. "Not EIC. When in doubt, I bring it to you. That's why we pay you the big bucks, Perry. So you can worry about this administrative crap and let me chase stories."

The older man just stared at her for a long moment. "Lois, you're gonna have to face it eventually," he warned. "Fine, I'll deal with this for now. What's that other thing you're holding?"

"Possible Metro page one," Lois said, handing him the Ames article. "I think it looks good. What's your opinion?"

Perry looked down at the story, and Lois saw his shoulders tense. Without looking up from the paper, he asked quietly, "When did you decide this?"

That soft tone often presaged the worst bellowing of a Monday Morning Massacre, and Lois knew to tread lightly. "Ames brought it to me a few minutes ago," she replied. "I haven't decided anything."

"Metro's filled," Perry said, handing the story back. "And I told Ames two hours ago we would run it mid-section the next day if we ran it at all. He was supposed to have this in by seven to run front page, and he blew the deadline. I already made arrangements to cover his mistake. Guess he thought he was slick, trying to make an end-run around me and get you to put it back on the front."

Lois folded the story, neatly aligning the edges and tightly pressing the crease. That was the _Daily Planet_'s sign that a story had just been killed. "We'll toss it on the website," she said icily. "And I will have words with Ames."

"That's my girl," Perry said warmly, and sat back down at his desk as she stalked out.

…

Jimmy had made his way over to International to hang out with his old friends, but he kept glancing back toward City. In spite of the fact that his title was Head Photographer, and his services were technically shared between the two departments, everyone knew that Lois considered him _her_ photographer. She was prone to dragging Jimmy back to City if she caught him hanging out on the wrong side of the bullpen too often, and never mind that it was her own husband and brother-in-law that Jimmy was over there to see.

His wariness meant he was the first one to see Lois storm out of the Chief's office. "Uh-oh," he whispered. "I think Hurricane Lane just made landfall in the bullpen."

All three men turned to look as Lois slammed the file folder she was carrying onto a desk to get everyone's attention. "All right, I've had about enough of this," she snarled, and her voice carried easily all the way to International. "Let's get this straight right now. Boss or no boss, I'm the City editor, not the Editor in Chief. I run the department, Mr. White runs the paper. I tell you what your stories should be and whether that writing is up to par. He decides if it's worthy of being printed for the public to consider fact. Perry White is the acting EIC and that's the way it's going to stay. His word is law in this place. So don't come running to me like kids that have had your hands slapped by Dad to smooth it over and get you what you want. Got it?"

Lois turned smartly on her heel and stalked back into her office. Ames watched her go, his jaw hanging open, the pages of his story lying at his feet where Lois had flung them. The rest of the City room followed her departure with embarrassment or admiration, all of them wide-eyed.

"Wow," Jimmy said quietly.

"Girl's still got it," Ron replied, grinning. "Clark? Anything to say?"

"I love my wife," Clark sighed, and the other two broke into laughter.

…

Lana reached to ring the doorbell of the Lane-Kent penthouse, but Richard just slid his key into the lock and opened the door. "Avon calling!" he called into the foyer.

His voice brought the howl of two beagles and the patter of running feet. Kristin dashed up to her parents, thrilled to see them after a week's separation. "Mommy! Daddy!" she yelled, flinging herself into their arms with her typical enthusiasm. Dusty, who'd been staying with the Lane-Kents, jumped all over his owners, squealing with glee. Still chuckling at the welcome, Lana actually had her daughter in her arms before she got a good look at her. "What in the name of…?" she exclaimed, brow furrowing, and then sighed. "Kristin, did you borrow Kala's lipstick?"

Kristin grinned happily, her lips slicked iridescent black. "She said I could!"

The older girl's voice drifted down the hall. "Little K was watching me do my makeup, so I said she could use some." Kala arrived, wearing black jeans and a Mothra t-shirt, but already fully made up. Lana had long ago gotten used to Kala's fondness for white face powder, dark lipstick, and lots of eyeliner, but tonight her makeup was even more exaggerated than usual. The designer's practiced glance decided that Kala had to have used liquid liner to draw the spiral extending from the corner of one eye, and her sardonic grin was the same black that Kristin wore. With her pale skin and raven-black hair, Kala should have looked like a caricature of a Goth kid, but somehow it all worked for her.

As Kala hugged and kissed Richard and Lana, leaving faint black smudges on their cheeks, the redhead thought uneasily that Kala looked closer to twenty than sixteen. She filed that thought away for future reference. "She's too young for lip gloss," Lana scolded, then added, "but you carry the look well, Kala."

"Thanks," the girl replied brightly. "Oh, you gotta see my boots – lemme get them." Then she was off, leaving Kristin clinging to Lana and beaming delightedly.

The Whites were as at home in the Lane-Kent house as in any of their own properties, and Lana led the way toward the kitchen. As expected, she found the family's resident chef muttering over something in the stove. Bagel, who had announced their arrival but hadn't bothered to leave the possibility of scraps, sat next to Jason's feet, casting pitiful looks up at him.

"Hi," Jason said, leaving the party snack preparation long enough to hug Richard and Lana. "Did you have a good trip?"

"Very," Richard said. "How's everything been around here? Party plans coming along?"

"The champagne's already cold, I'm working on hors-d'oeuvres, and we're having some other stuff catered," Jason replied. "Pretty much everyone's going to be here tonight."

"Sounds great," Richard said. "How's things with your mom and dad?"

Lana watched Jason's face carefully at that casual question, and she didn't like the way his eyes flicked away just before he answered, "About the same as always."

Richard had noticed it, too, and he just hugged the boy. "Glad to hear it," he said. "We'll let you get back to cooking, Master Chef, and I'll take my kid and dog out from underfoot. See you later tonight."

"See you," Jason said, and gave out one last round of hugs.

Kala had returned with her boots, and Lana's brows shot up. These were high-heeled black patent leather, and they laced all the way up to the knee. The teenager grinned, waiting for commentary, but Lana managed to confine her opinions to, "Your feet are going to be killing you by the end of the night."

"Nah, it's not that bad," Kala said. "Besides, it's not like I can go to the club in _comfortable_ shoes."

"Whoa there," Richard said. "The club? I thought we were having a party here tonight."

Lana knew that sheepish expression well, as Kala looked up at Richard with a beseeching smile. "Well, Mom caved and let Jason invite Giselle over. So in the interest of peace, harmony, and a good start to the year, I'm going out."

"Why do I get the feeling you and Giselle had a minor disagreement?" Richard asked, crossing his arms and looking at his daughter seriously. Lana echoed his pose; if she was any judge, this was about to get interesting.

"If you call me throwing her out of the house 'minor'," Kala replied dryly.

"How many times did she bounce before she finally landed?" Richard asked, and Lana elbowed him sharply. Kala was giggling, though, and he continued, "So it was that bad?"

"Yeah, and it'd just be best for everyone if I wasn't here," Kala said with a sigh. "Giselle didn't get to be here for Thanksgiving or Christmas, so I may as well be charitable. Besides, Sebast and I are going to Fuel. The Flying Foxes are playing."

"You're going to be the good kid I know you are, right?" Richard asked. Lana smiled a little at that; she might've been inclined to worry over Kala being in a _club_ on that night, of all nights, but Richard was playing to the girl's ego.

"Of course," Kala replied promptly. "I can take care of myself, and having Sebast around will keep all the boys away. He's my designated boyfriend stand-in."

Richard chortled. "I'm gonna make that boy a nametag that says 'Designated Boyfriend'. I think he'll enjoy it. _You_, daughter mine, have a lovely New Year's Eve." He hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Make it back in time, and I may save you half a glass of champagne."

Lana kissed her other cheek. "Take care, sweetheart."

"Thanks," Kala replied to them both. "Drive safe. I don't want my black-lipsticked little kiddle jostled." She rumpled Kristin's hair, and the younger girl giggled. "Have fun with Uncle Perry and Aunt Loueen, Little K."

"I will," Kristin said, hugging her big sister. With that, Lana and Richard headed back down to the car in thoughtful silence. Neither wanted to say anything, but they'd both caught Jason's hesitance, as well as Kala's rather brittle good cheer. One thought flickered across both their minds. _I'm glad we decided not to wait any later than tomorrow._

…

Still steaming from bawling out half the newsroom, Lois wouldn't have admitted that she also enjoyed the adrenaline roaring through her from the encounter. It was a relief to feel like her old self again, full of fire and determination, some of her ever-present frustration and stress having seeped away in the midst of her diatribe. She couldn't help the smirk that rose to her lips, savoring it for a moment. Not even Clark leaving earlier could dispel her mood at this point. It was only after she had leaned back in her chair, still soaring on the high, that she realized that this had to be how Perry felt whenever he had finished a particularly motivating Monday Morning Massacre.

Only then did the level of oddity get to her and Lois made herself let it go with a little shake, deciding to channel her triumph into the backlog in her inbox from the holidays. If she worked at it steadily, she would likely be down to the minor priorities by the end of the afternoon.

Thinking back on it, Lois wasn't sure how long she'd been buried in paperwork, only that she didn't hear Erik Eastlake until he spoke from the doorway. "Busy?"

Startled, Lois' hazel eyes rose to see the younger man smiling at her questioningly. She could feel that challenging grin try to curve her lips. And hot on the heels of getting all of the other insanity in her life firmly under control, the fly had decided to circle her web again? Could she have had better luck today? "Hmm? Oh, no, not really. Come in, Erik."

He closed the door behind him as he did so, sitting down across from her. Although they'd been conversing throughout her trip to Kansas, Erik providing her with more and more unknowing leads, this was the first time they'd seen each other face-to-face since before Christmas. And he thought he was within a breath of winning her support. "So, are you convinced?" Erik asked almost immediately, confirming what she already suspected. "Pretty impressive numbers on L-Tech's balance sheets, right?"

She had to fight again to maintain her composure, the urge to let that smug smile slip out intense. The poor boy had no idea what this was all about, which was exactly what she wanted until she sprang her trap. Keeping her expression open, she nodded, "Very impressive. Even if the figures are a little confusing. There've been so many infusions of capital…"

And, as always, Erik had an explanation ready. "They do aggressively solicit capital investments firms. My dad's company was one of the ones that contributed a lot. As I understand it from his notes, L-Tech operated at a drastic loss for the first five years, started turning a profit in its sixth year, and has shown a great return on investment in the last couple years."

Again, Lois nodded, but one word had captured her attention. There was nothing she could do to mask the sudden predatory light that came into her eyes. The implication made her mind spin. "Your father kept notes on L-Tech?" she asked softly, leaning forward.

It took only a moment for her to realize that Erik hadn't missed that telling gleam in her rapt gaze. It was his turn to grin, mirroring her pose, his own eyes alight. "On all of his major investments, and all the transactions his corporations were involved with," he replied. "There's a scrapbook somewhere with pictures from all the company meetings Pop went to."

The reporter felt her heart begin to beat faster. What were the odds that he might have a photo of the board of directors for Vanderworth Holdings Limited? And would it be too much to hope that Alexander Roth might be pictured? That was one of the more important names she'd noted in her search for more information about L-Tech and Vanderworth Holdings. It didn't occur frequently – unlike Mercedes Graves, the CEO of L-Tech, who seemed to be on the board of everything except the firm Erik represented, Eagle Capital Investments. Mr. Roth was most notable for his absence from so many illustrious lists, but he was the CEO of something called Prometheus Corp, which ultimately funded L-Tech through a roundabout series of intermediaries. The name of the company had intrigued Lois, as did its incorporation on one of the less-regulatory Caribbean islands.

Lois suspected that Alexander Roth was an alias of Luthor's. Lex could be a shortened form of Alexander, after all, and the letters of Roth formed part of Luthor. It was the kind of thing Lex would do – a lot of people who held aliases kept the same initials, but that would be too predictable for Luthor. Half-assed anagrams were more his style. And to call his corporation _Prometheus_? It sounded just like Lex's kind of superiority complex, as horribly grandiose as that yacht had been.

All evidence aside, Lois had a hunch, and she never ignored journalistic intuition. She smiled at Erik, knowing she had to get her hands on those notes, had to see that scrapbook. If she could connect Luthor to a legitimate identity, she would not only have a bargaining chip against him, she could cast doubt on L-Tech itself and undermine Luthor's attempts to market Kryptonian technology. It would be such a relief to hand that information over to Kal-El.

Even better, if she had _solid_ evidence against Luthor, anything he said about their deal could be ignored as a last-ditch attempt to get himself out of a trap. Lois had already nudged Clark to take certain precautions with his identity; thanks to the Martian Manhunter's shape-shifting powers, photographs and videos existed showing Clark Kent and Superman in the same frame, although J'onn had not appreciated Lois' way of determining which was the imposter.

Finally, _finally,_ she might just have the upper hand in her long, lonely battle against Luthor, and she was ready to risk almost anything to bring down Lex. "I wonder if you'd be willing to let me look at those notes?" she asked Erik, giving him what she hoped was a friendly, harmless smile. It wouldn't do for him to suspect her of duplicity now…

"You know, I haven't really gotten around to cleaning out Pop's study," Erik said, sounding a trifle embarrassed. "It's kind of silly, but I can't bring myself to box up his things. As long as the study's the way he left it, it's almost like he's still there."

An expected pang of commiseration struck Lois then, remembering how she and Lucy had wept when they cleaned out Ella's room at the Troupe house. It had been something silly that had gotten both girls weeping, a paperback novel with a bookmark halfway through, and the realization that Ella would never turn that page had broken with dreadful force on the two women. Lois' voice was low with feeling when she replied, "Believe me, I understand."

Erik leaned a little closer, empathy inviting confidences. "And I have to admit, I don't want Pop's notes taken out of the house," he murmured. "I know you'd take care of them, but, well… His things are all I have left of him…"

"It's all right." Lois' tone was still gentle with remembered pain, laying one hand flat on the table between them while giving him a compassionate smile. "I know I'd feel exactly the same way if they were my mother's papers. If it's alright with you, I could always come by some day and have a look…" Due to the subject matter, she felt more than a little guilty for thinking it, but her mind was already awhirl with half-formed ideas of how to gain access to those notes, including breaking and entering. Erik lived somewhere in New Troy, as she recalled…

With no warning, Lois felt his hand cover hers, the touch light. "Or you could come by this evening for dinner…"

_Great,_ the reporter in her thought, eagerly leaping at the chance for more information. An instant later, his tone of voice registered; it was as warm and caressing as his hand on hers. Instantly, she froze as her eyes widened in disbelief and, in the breathless moment in with she tried to understand what had just happened, for the first time in a long time she heard her various separate selves arguing.

_He's handsome, not even __**you**__ can deny that,_ the voice of her loneliness spoke up. _And not even Kal-El pays me this much attention these days._

The rebuttal came a bare half-second later, resounding from every corner of Lois' soul. _No. Never. I'm __**married**__. Besides, I love Kal-El, not this pretty rich boy. Playing Mrs. Robinson isn't worth losing the love of my life, no matter what Erik can offer me._

But the information he had… It hurt her in a very deep place to have it this close, only to have it snatched away so soon. Lois needed another lead, a way to keep her family safe. She needed those notes in a way she'd never craved cigarettes.

A much younger-sounding General's Daughter muttered, _To catch Luthor? Hell yeah, I can play the flirt. Follow him home, flatter his ego, get what I need and make some excuse to get the hell out. No harm, no foul._

_What about Kal-El?_ That was the eternal Romantic, wringing her hands as usual.

_What he doesn't know won't hurt him,_ came the callous reply. _And if he does know, he'll understand why I had to make Erik think I was interested. This is __**Luthor**__ we're talking about, the means to maybe lock him up for good._

_No,_ came a firmer voice, and Lois was unsurprised to hear her mother's tone echoing in her own skull. _I am the assistant editor of the city's largest newspaper, not to mention wife of a superhero and mother of two teenagers. I can't afford to let even the hint of something like this tarnish my reputation. Kal-El might even believe the inevitable rumors – __**that's**__ what his problem has been. He sees Erik flirting, sees me hanging on every word, and he thinks I'm thinking of straying. He has no idea I'm just seeking information … and that's __**all**__ Erik has that I want._

_Unfortunately, I have to let it go._ The thought was agonizing, but Lois drew herself up with fresh resolve, taking her hand out from under Erik's gently but firmly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Eastlake, but I can't do that," Lois said, and her tone was utterly professional, not showing the slightest hint of the turmoil she felt she was drowning in. "I'm hosting a New Year's Eve party tonight, and my friends and family expect me to be there."

Erik almost flinched, but covered it with a weak laugh. "I should've known," he said self-deprecatingly. He rose to leave, giving her another tight, awkward smile, and Lois saw the blush beginning to rise from under his collar. "Enjoy your party, Ms. Lane. We'll make arrangements some other time."

"Some other time," Lois echoed a little hollowly, feeling as though she'd walked to the very edge of a cliff and then stepped back, just as the precipice began to crumble away under her feet. She'd known that feeling before…

Briefly, during the first year of her marriage to Kal-El, Lois had run into some difficulty accepting his absences. Same problem she had now, actually, only back in those days he had been the _only_ publicly-known superhero, and he'd still managed to be at home more often than he was now. The problem then had been missing certain critical events like Jason's piano recital. They'd fought, and Lois had gone to Ella with her troubles.

Her mother's advice had shocked her – Ella had said either work through it, accepting Kal-El's mission, or divorce him. The notion had been so outlandish that Lois had been startled into accepting Kal-El's apology. Things had run more or less smoothly for them, but she'd harbored a tiny kernel of resentment, feeling put upon that _she_ had to adapt, _she_ had to accept his absences.

And then there was that business conference. Lois had flown all the way to Japan, leaving Kal-El home with the kids, for a seminar on the news world and how technology was affecting their business. It had been very insightful, covering topics Lois would never otherwise have considered relevant to the newspaper business, but the biggest surprise of that week had been stepping out of her hotel room at seven in the morning to see Richard across the hall.

That conference had happened while Lana was pregnant, and the Whites weren't keeping very much in contact with the Lane-Kents at the time. Lois hadn't known Richard was attending, he hadn't even guessed she would be there, and neither of them had expected to wind up on the same floor of the convention hotel. But there he stood, looking clean-cut and handsome in a new suit, while Lois stood frozen in her bathrobe, keenly aware that she wore only a slip beneath it.

In those days the separation between Lois and Richard had still been new enough to hurt them both; while they loved their spouses, they had often found being around each other difficult as they tried to adapt to the new status quo. It was hard for Richard to treat Lois as a friend when he'd shared her bed for three years, and it was just as hard for Lois to react to him as anything other than her recent lover. They worked on it, but without seeing or speaking to Richard in several months thanks to Lana's paranoid jealousy, Lois had been struck by his appearance more keenly than even the first time she'd met him. Not surprising, really; now she _knew_ him, and he knew her, knew that place on the back of her neck that made her shiver with the lightest kiss, just as she knew how to run the very tips of her nails up his side…

The temptation had certainly been there during that week, and there was one night when the pair of them hung around the hotel bar way too late, drinking and swapping stories with reporters from all over the world. Richard had walked Lois back to her room, both of them a little drunker than they should have been and laughing companionably over some of the remarks that had been made through the evening, and for one instant at her door they'd stopped laughing when Lois lost her footing and Richard caught her. Both had looked into the other's eyes and thought the exact same thing: leaning for one last kiss, and if it was more than a kiss, well, who could begrudge them one last time? Richard had leaned toward her, and Lois had lifted her lips toward his…

It hadn't happened; a door had slammed somewhere on another floor, jarring them both into instant sobriety, and they'd laughed it off. And been grateful for the interruption – that had been far too close to making a mistake they would both regret. It was a momentary impulse, brought on by too much alcohol and reminiscing, and the near-miss had left Lois even more resolute in her marriage. She had been just as determined to keep Richard's friendship, and he must have felt the same, because that moment in the hall was the last real temptation between them. There had been plenty of silliness since, and Richard had even kissed her once – lifted her off the ground, swung her around, and planted a big kiss on her when she won the second Pulitzer, but Clark understood – but they'd never even gotten close to dangerous territory.

That one moment, where the pair of them had stood on the edge of adultery and looked down, down, down into the abyss … it felt familiar now. The difference was, Lois and Richard had managed to rebuild their relationship, becoming better friends than they'd ever been as lovers, and still keeping the spark of attraction that gave all of their conversations such vivacity. Lana's trust in Lois had been rebuilt to the point where Lois was present in the delivery room at Kristin's birth, and the four adults had become so close that their three children considered themselves to simply have four parents. It was the best possible outcome, but it couldn't have happened without Lois and Richard coming to the brink, and stepping back.

Lois didn't think she and Eastlake were going to become better friends for this. The younger man had been distinctly discomfited, as if she'd wounded his pride by turning him down. And Lois herself felt sullied by his suggestion; she'd immediately returned to using his surname, not wanting even a hint of familiarity. The whole thing left her feeling vaguely sick.

_Kal-El has seen this,_ she thought, and her stomach roiled. No wonder he was so solicitous, no wonder he had been so brusque to Eastlake. Even when Lois had been telling herself she was just chasing a story, he had known that something like this could happen.

If Clark had still been at the office, Lois might have gone to him and wrapped herself up in his arms, wordlessly seeking comfort and trying to give assurance that she would _never_… But since he wasn't here, Lois would have to make sure he knew once she got home.

With that thought in mind, she rose and headed for Perry's office. _The silver dress won't do for tonight,_ she thought. _I should get my hair done, too. I need something new, something stunning – I want to remind Kal-El and myself how lucky we are to have each other._

…

While riding the crowded subway to Sebast's, Kala couldn't stop chuckling at her parents. She'd wanted to leave before the Pink Princess of Doom got there, knowing that her keyed-up state would just make the situation worse, but her father had kept to the usual house rules in spite of it being New Years. "Sweetheart, you know you have to wait until your mother gets home," Clark had admonished while he set out the catered platters around the kitchen island, making Kala roll her eyes with extravagant petulance. "You also know need you need both of our approval before you head out for something like this. We've had this discussion."

_Yeah, endlessly. Couldn't you just make an exception just this once? _she'd thought at the time, but had finally come out with, "Fine, but if Mom's not here in half an hour, I'm gonna call her." She crossed her arms and pouted, leaning forward against countertop with a sulky expression. But all that got her was a chuckle and a smile as her father continued to set up for the party.

"Be patient; you know you can be when you want to. I promise, Kala, you'll get to Sebast's in time."

"Yeah, I just don't want to have to run in these shoes," Kala groused, pursing her lips. "Or smear my eyeliner with sheer wind speed. At least you don't worry about stuff like looking like a typhoon hit when you made an entrance. The last thing I wanna deal with tonight is badger-eye issues."

"You look lovely now and you'll look lovely for your audience," Clark had said, stopping to lean onto the counter in front of her and look her in the eye, and she could tell he meant it. "Now stop worrying. You'll just make yourself sick."

She had taken a deep breath in and let it out in a sigh. As always, she could count on her father to see past the surface to the bigger problem. She couldn't help the grateful smile that rose to her lips. "Thanks, Daddy," Kala had replied then, preening under the praise just a bit. Then they'd both heard the elevator doors open at their floor, and both recognized Lois' heartbeat at the same moment. _Oh, thank you, God. It's about time, Mom._ Kala had at first been glad just because it meant she could escape before Giselle got there, and then Lois had walked into the apartment.

Kala's eyebrows had shot up and she knew without looking that Dad's had, too; obviously there had been a reason for Mom's lateness. A glance made it clear she had gone to the salon, had her hair styled and nails done and a glow that hinted at a facial in there somewhere. She was also carrying a garment bag from Saks, a hint of crimson gleaming promisingly from the bottom. "Wow, Mom, wasn't expecting that this early," Kala had said, sincerely impressed.

There had been a moment for silence and she hadn't been surprised to see the poleaxed look on her father's face. The teenager _had_ been surprised at how pleased she had been. It had been a little while since she'd seen Dad that blown away and she couldn't help but be happy for Mom. It was all she had not to laugh out loud when she had recognized the way the tone of his voice lowered. "Lois, you look gorgeous."

In spite of the amusement, watching it happen was a totally different thing. That they were getting along was beyond awesome, but that didn't mean she had to subject herself to the visual that went with it. "Okay, imminent gross-out," she'd groaned, wincing as she pulled away from the bar to snatch up her purse. "Mom, you look great. I'm leaving you and Dad to suck face in peace, okay? Remember there _will_ be party guests eventually."

That had gotten a laugh from both parents, and with hugs from them and a final reminder about curfew, Kala had gratefully escaped. She couldn't resist listening behind her as she left, though, and had snickered to hear Mom laugh in startled surprise as it was all too clear Dad was kissing her. And then Lois' voice, trying to sound stern but too full of delighted laughter to succeed. "No. No, absolutely not. If you keep on you'll ruin your appetite for dessert. Not to mention the hair."

"There's very little that can ruin my appetite for this," came the reply, and Kala refocused her hearing with a groan. At least that had lifted some of her worries; she knew things had been tense on and off lately, but any time Mom and Dad were pawing each other in the living room, life was good. As long as neither she or Jason were there to be witnesses.

Now all she had to worry about was meeting Sebast and going to Fuel … where she might actually sing. Kala had seen the sign-up sheet for singers, and it was pretty long, but a lot of those names were crossed out. The guy running register the night she'd filled out the form had looked impressed when he saw what school she went to. All things considered, Kala thought she had a serious chance.

If she could just control the butterflies in her stomach…

…

Party guests were arriving, and Lois had wrapped herself up in the proceedings as tightly as she could, determined to be very much the gracious hostess. With a glass of wine already mellowing her nerves and all of the earlier tumult under lock and key in the back of her mind, the evening seemed well on its way to completely transcending the near-disaster of the afternoon. Everyone had complimented the new dress, and the holiday news was all good so far. Tobie had gone and bought a Benelli Legacy Sport shotgun for Maggie, who was overjoyed and eager to plan a trip to the gun range for their next girls' night out. Cat had taken Richard's advice and deep-sixed Andrew the Presumptuous after the twins' party, only to hook up with a new boyfriend at the WGBS Christmas party. Ian was seven years younger than Cat, her usual average, but he seemed like a decent guy to the rest of the girls and that was really all that mattered.

Giselle arrived fifteen minutes late, but her mother, Justine Davenport, walked up to the apartment with her to apologize; they'd been stuck in traffic. Lois made small talk idly with her for a few minutes, while Jason managed to steal his girlfriend away out of sight of parents for a kiss. "You're sure you wouldn't like to stay for the party?" Lois offered politely, knowing it would be refused.

"Oh, I couldn't put you to the trouble," Justine said, her tone just as cool as Lois'. It was one of Lois' peculiarities that she simply didn't get along with most women. She considered herself very lucky to have the friends she did, since in her experience other women tended to treat her as a rival, and Lois could not let a challenge pass unanswered. Her close friends had all either chosen to allow Lois the upper hand in most things, as Lana and Cat had, or had entered into sometimes-fierce competition with her while somehow managing not to be mean-spirited about it, like Tobie and Loueen.

Justine Davenport was never going to be a close friend. She was self-possessed and well-mannered, but like her daughter, she kept her real thoughts and feelings well hidden. Lois didn't trust anyone who displayed no passion for _anything_, and she was grateful when the woman left. As a much younger woman, Lois would've felt guilty for feeling grateful, but not these days. Ever since her children had grown into teenagers, Lois no longer felt the need to apologize for who she was.

Besides, these days Lois could just turn and look at her guests, and their reactions would reaffirm her own feelings about Justine. Clark didn't particularly like Mrs. Davenport, either, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt; she and her husband had lived abroad for many years, and her aloof attitude may simply have been the quirk of another culture. Cat had just tilted her nose up in the air once Justine left, which made Tobie snicker.

Warm contentment settled over Lois like a blanket … or more correctly, like Clark's arm around her shoulders. "Love you," he murmured against her hair, and she leaned back against him with a broad smile.

"Sorry we're late," Richard's voice called from the front door. Jason had apparently noticed his parents drifting off into romance-land again, and had put himself on door watch.

Tobie groaned, "Aw, hell, I thought you didn't invite him for once."

That got the entire assembled group laughing while the Whites made their way across the room, both looking well-rested and happier than Lois could remember seeing them in a while. And that was saying something where Lana and Richard were concerned. With a smirk, she tipped her head back to roll her eyes up at her husband. "That has to be a record for her. Only I've ever mocked him the minute he's stepped in the door before. I'll let her have her turn at tormenting him this time, that's how good a friend I am." Beaming down at her, Kal-El joined her in the chuckle.

"You'd miss me, Raines," Richard teased, making his way toward Lois and Clark.

"I've never had a _chance_ to miss you, White, you won't go the hell away," Tobie shot back as Richard pulled Lois out of Clark's arms for a hug of his own.

Maggie and Lana sighed and rolled their eyes at the same moment, catching sight of each other and breaking into good-natured laughter. Despite the separation of the family for the holidays, everything was back to the status quo. "The traffic is absolutely insane," Lana said, explaining their absence.

"And somebody didn't want to risk his precious new convertible?" Cat asked, grinning at Richard. At his double-take, she added with a grin, "Oh yeah, we heard about it."

"We even heard you've already got the back seat properly broken in." It was Tobie teasing. Without a beat, Richard glared down at Lois, who took a step back out of his arms automatically.

"I will have you know that I did _not_ say that," she protested, crossing her arms and arching the Lane brow at him. "All I said was that you took it for a two-hour test drive and only put fifteen miles on it. And on top of that, you just spent most a week driving back here. C'mon. The proof is right there. Don't start."

Lana sighed extravagantly, palm to her forehead as she shook her head slightly. Lois had to bite her lip to hide her smile_. You'd think she'd know better by now. After a decade with these guys, nothing should surprise or embarrass her by now. Then again, I wouldn't want her any other way._ _ One of us should still be capable of blushing. _"Thank you, Tobie, for making us both feel welcome on our first day back home."

"Anytime," Tobie replied, grinning. _And one of us should never be ashamed of __**anything**__ we do_, Lois added to herself wryly, unable to disguise her snicker.

As always, Richard couldn't resist fanning the flames, smirking at Tobie as he came forward to face the _Star_ editor while Lana took her turn hugging Clark. "For the record, Raines, we didn't bring the convertible. We took a cab, since there _will_ be champagne. Plus, that means I don't have to try and find a parking space."

"Aw, that's so mature and responsible of you," Tobie said. "Just try not to get hammered, okay? I already had your naked chest leap out of a Vogue magazine at me; I'm not prepared to see you drunk-dancing shirtless on the table with a lampshade on your head."

"I should _never_ have talked about my college years around you," he sighed, making everyone laugh. "And I understand, really. Of everyone here, you're the _least_ prepared to handle my incredible charisma."

Tobie made a rude noise and conceded defeat for the moment; there was no beating Richard's ego, and they all knew it. In the meantime, Lana was now exclaiming over Lois' new dress. "And I'm stealing that neckline," she mused, hugging Lois. The designer stepped back, scowling a little. She pinched the fabric at Lois' side, drawing it tight, and the reporter automatically flinched away, but not quickly enough. "You've lost a pound or two since Christmas," Lana scolded.

_Oh God, here we go. Why does she have to be so damn perceptive? Or know me so well? The last thing I want her to know is the truth; she'd never understand in a million years._ "I've been running a big story," Lois protested, trying not to look guilty. These days lying to Lana, or even omitting the truth for her own good, didn't sit well with Lois. It would be the same as lying to Lucy.

And Lana was continuing with her observations. "And living off coffee, no doubt. I don't care _how_ much sugar and cream Starbucks' puts in it, Lois, coffee is a _beverage_, not a food group." Her shrewd gaze fell on Clark, raising her auburn brows.

"Lana, I haven't been starving her," he said defensively, hands raised palms out. "You wouldn't give me that look if you'd seen how many pizzas we bought last night – and how few slices were left this morning. Between the two of us and the kids…"

"You know she frets off the calories," Lana returned, and Lois began to pout angrily at being talked about like a little kid. Seeing that expression, the redhead backed off a bit, smiling with affectionate exasperation. "It's all right, Lois," Lana soothed. "I'm sure you'll recover quickly. We have some things we need to talk about, anyway, but not until tomorrow."

_We need to talk…_ Those words were powerful enough that Lois suddenly felt like her stomach had fallen down the building's elevator shaft, her grand mood evaporating. She tried to swallow with a suddenly dry throat, trying with all of her being to keep her expression neutral, wondering how much Lana knew. Clark, meanwhile, asked dubiously, "What kind of things?" Lois could feel the tension rising off him, and wondered what _he_ was worried about.

Richard chose that moment to sling his arm around Lois' neck, preventing Lana from explaining by saying with an exaggerated leer, "Why, making that old OT4 rumor a reality, of course. Just how much champagne do you have stocked up, anyway?" He waggled his eyebrows at Lois with a satyr's grin.

Lois couldn't help it; one look at Lana's shocked expression and Clark's dismayed one, and she burst out laughing with sheer relief. Soon all four of them were chuckling, Richard patting Lois on the back to make sure she could catch her breath. "Gotcha," he finally said, the mischievous light in his eyes burning bright as ever.

"You are _impossible_," Lois laughed, elbowing him in the side affectionately.

"And you love me for it," Richard replied. "You _all_ love me for it."

"No, Richard, we love you in _spite_ of it," Clark informed him, and that got all of them laughing again. Lois very quickly managed to forget that Lana had ever mentioned needing to talk at all.

…

Kala's nervousness hadn't gotten any better; in fact, it had actually gotten a thousand times _worse_ when she'd arrived at Sebast's house. She'd no more than knocked when her best friend answered the door with a wild-eyed expression, wearing a t-shirt and jeans and not even made up yet. "Damn, I forgot all about that," he'd groaned with real feeling, pained apology all over his face. "Kala, I'm so sorry. I can't go. _Abuelita_ fell; we're not sure how it happened, but she hurt herself. _Mis padres_ went with her to the hospital, but I have to stay here and watch Michael." His younger brother, Michael, had come to the door just behind him, and was looking up at Kala with a woeful expression.

That took her by utter surprise. "Oh my God, Sebast, is she gonna be okay?" Kala had asked, pulling him to her for a hug. A selfish part of her couldn't believe that this was happening; why did it have to be tonight, when she needed him the most? Shaking it off, she hugged him a bit tighter to make up for the thought.

He'd returned the gesture, squeezing her tighter and holding her a little longer than usual, and replied that she should be fine once they figured out what happened and fixed it. Sebast was clearly distracted; Kala knew how close he was with his grandmother, but also knew she could provide little comfort. She had been here herself not so very long ago. Whenever something happened in the Velez family, they all drew together, and despite how strong the bond was between her and Sebast, Kala was still considered something of an outsider.

She'd made herself leave shortly afterward; her emotions all jumbled up, she'd assured Sebast that she'd keep his grandmother in her prayers and that she understood his backing out. But that had left her with a very clear problem: what to do next?

Probably the safest option was to go home. But that meant missing the Foxes, blowing her chance to sing, and then having to spend a disappointing evening in the company of Princess Barbie. She could go to the club alone … everyone else had plans tonight, since it _was_ New Year's Eve, and she probably couldn't get anyone to come with her at this late notice. But doing that meant facing the possibility of singing without even _one_ guaranteed fan in the crowd. Not to mention, she had told her father she was going with Sebast; going alone was sort of breaking the rules.

But not going meant she was a chicken, so Kala had gone, comforting herself with the knowledge that she'd ruin everyone's good time if she came home with her own spoiled. Hopefully her father would understand; even better, he never had to know. And now, here she was at Fuel, signing her name on a printout to say she was here and ready to sing if they needed her – plus some legalese about how she wasn't performing for pay, et cetera. Her hand shook a little as she signed, but she turned the wobble into a flourish.

The guy running register tonight was Brandon, who looked and dressed so deceptively clean-cut, but Kala had seen the tattoos on his arms when he handed her the sign-up sheet and she decided to trust that he wasn't exactly normal, either. "So what are my chances?" she asked.

"The girl we originally planned on is puking her guts up right now," Brandon told her. "The guy we were gonna use as backup never showed. So you might want to pick some songs. And take some Dramamine, if you're nervous." With that, he handed her a binder with a printed-out list of songs organized by band name and title.

Kala took it, forcing her hands not to shake any more than they already were. _Oh God, I'm actually gonna do this. I'm gonna sing in front of all these people. Holy freaking crap._ In spite of her jitters, her voice came out smooth and steady when she asked, "How many songs do I get?"

"Three, usually," Brandon said. "You probably won't get more than that, but have a fourth in mind just in case. The Flying Foxes are pretty good about being ready on time, but they like their crowd warmed up a little."

Kala nodded and browsed the song list, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her chest. _Show them what you can do,_ she told herself, trying to remember everything they'd talked about in class. _Treat this like an audition, and show your range. Pick different genres, pick at least one song originally sung by a guy. Pick something and sing it different than the original artist did – make it yours when you sing it, put your own spin on it._

_Oh, and don't throw up._ She chuckled a little under her breath at that, flipping through the pages quickly. Fuel was starting to fill up, and Brandon had to serve customers, but he found time to hand Kala a bottle of water. She started sipping it, humming under her breath to warm up her vocal chords. "Okay, here they are," she said with an edgy little sigh, quickly writing them down on her sign-up sheet when Brandon passed it back to her.

Brandon read upside down, and scoffed a little at her first choice. "Are you _serious_?" he asked.

Kala looked up at him and arched one eyebrow. "Okay, I know it's a pop song all over the radio, but _look_ at me. Do you really think I'm gonna sing it all sugar-candy sweet? Hell no. I'm gonna rock it like it _should_ be."

He looked her over, and chuckled. "You have a point. What're the other two?"

Kala handed him the sheet again, and he grinned wider. "Within Temptation, _See Who I Am_, and Nickelback, _Figured You Out_. If you were going for a theme, you should've picked _Rock Star_."

"Too cheesy," Kala was quick to respond, getting enough attitude back to smirk at him. "A wannabe rock singer singing about wanting to be a rock star? Nah."

The fact that he laughed at that helped settle her a bit more. "Looks like an interesting set. I like it," Brandon said with a considering look, and Kala knew she'd chosen well. "What'll you do for an encore if you have time?"

"Evanescence," she replied instantly. "Anything off _The Open Door_; I know them all. I know most of _Fallen_ and _Origin_ too."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Brandon said with a snort. "You've got about an hour; go on back, get warmed up. If the other girl suddenly gets her guts together, we'll give her two songs and give you two, but I don't think she's cut out for it. This is the second time she's tried to sing and wound up hiding in the bathroom."

Kala laughed, but she knew exactly how the other girl felt. When she was younger, she'd often worked herself into a state of nervous nausea, and not just over worrisome things. Once before a trip to Disney, she'd gotten so excited that she threw up – and then tried to clean up the mess herself, so her parents wouldn't think she was too sick to travel and leave her home. _That_ had not been pleasant for Kala or Lois.

At least these days she knew enough not to eat before a performance. Taking a deep breath, Kala slipped behind the counter and went into the stockroom, where she would spend the next hour trying to keep herself from fainting. _I'd better call someone for moral support. Sebast's busy … maybe Elise? Definitely Elise._ She had her phone out and dialing as soon as the thought occurred to her, not even noticing how her palms had begun to sweat.

…

Clark was enjoying the evening, surrounded by friends and family, and utterly unable to keep his eyes – or his hands – off his wife. Lois' sultry chuckle every time he touched her kept him keyed up, eager for midnight to arrive and the party to be over shortly thereafter. While they'd never had problems with a lack of desire in their relationship, things had cooled down over the last several months. Some of it was poor timing; Clark would be out late with the League, and come home to find Lois asleep. Other times the tension in the house, with the kids and work and everything else, conspired to rob them both of motivation.

But ever since Clark had walked into the office to see Lois and Eastlake laughing, it was as if he'd been drowsing and someone slapped him awake, showing him once again whom he had married. His wife, who woke up beside him with rumpled hair and an obscene craving for coffee, was _Lois Lane_. Lois Lane-_Kent_, now. She was not just any woman; she was an icon, a legend, the woman Superman fell in love with, and one of the finest reporters on the planet, so far as Clark was concerned.

He'd needed that wake-up call. Clark realized he'd been taking Lois for granted, and he had vowed to make amends. The reminder of just who she was, and how much she meant to him, had gone to heart, and put a new spark in their love life. Since coming home from the Christmas trip, it was almost like they were newlyweds again. And right now, with Lois in that red dress, her confidence at an all-time high, and that old fire gleaming in her eyes, Clark would've been perfectly content to sneak away from the party with her. If only they weren't the hosts…

Clark could almost thank Erik Eastlake for this, but he knew the younger man was trying to seduce his wife. So what if the marriage had been a little shaky over the last year? They were still _married_, and Clark had vowed_ forever_ in his heart. He'd sworn that their first night in the Fortress, so long ago, and though he'd made the mistake of leaving her, in his heart he had never forsaken her. A few squabbles didn't give anyone the right to try and come between them, even if Lois hadn't turned Eastlake down flat the way she'd always brushed off her admirers before.

But Clark wouldn't let himself think too much on that. He didn't think it had gone beyond flirtation; he would have known, somehow, if there had been even a kiss. Lois' body language had been telegraphing secrecy and a little guilt, but not as much guilt as he would've expected if she'd acted upon the temptation. So Clark kept giving her reasons not to, reminding her that what she had at home was far better than some investor looking to bed a legendary reporter. Clark knew her in a way Eastlake never could, loved her for whom she was, not for her reputation. Even the earrings he'd tucked into her Christmas stocking were a reminder of that; the stones were fire opals that gleamed with the kind of multi-hued brilliance he thought Lois' soul would possess, if souls were somehow visible.

Thinking again of how close he might have been to losing Lois, Clark gently inserted himself into her conversation with Cat and Ian, and just as deftly led Lois away. One end of the terrace was in perpetual shadow, and they'd never gotten around to installing a light. "And what do _you_ want?" Lois asked tauntingly, looking up at him with a wicked smile.

Clark's keen hearing caught Richard muttering, _"Oh thank God, he just dragged her off somewhere. Maybe we don't have as much to worry about…"_

He pulled his attention away with a chuckle. "We were spotted leaving," he murmured, bending to kiss Lois. "Darn it."

"Doesn't answer my question," she whispered against his lips.

That soft, rich, knowing laugh, the one he knew perfectly well would echo along her every nerve, and Clark pulled Lois close. For a moment, all too short a moment, he lost himself in her, in kissing her and rediscovering the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed to him, the texture of her hair beneath his hands. "Does this answer it?" he asked huskily, and kissed her again.

"Mmm," Lois purred. "Maybe." She laced her arms around his neck, arching her body against him suggestively, and Clark let everything else go. Richard and Lana would cover their absence, and even if the others guessed, the worst that would happen would be some good-natured teasing. He could live with that, if it gave him this perfect moment.

Clark was so focused on Lois that he didn't notice the telepathic signal until it actually started to give him a headache. He pulled away from Lois, wincing a little at J'onn's broadcast voice. _"Clark, come in, Clark. Your help is required. There is a major meltdown in progress at the Nastroma nuclear power plant."_ A pause, and then, uncharacteristic worry in the Martian's tone,_ "Clark, __**hurry**__."_

_On my way,_ he thought at J'onn. Lois was staring at him, and her eyes went wide when Clark swore softly. "I have to go," he said, and it was _that_ tone.

The illusion of Lois' confidence crumbled, leaving a stricken woman with haunted eyes staring up at him. "What? _Now?_ Kal-El, no! Not tonight!"

"I _have_ to," he told her, taking a step back. The uniform was hidden in the back of the closet; he'd told the JLA he needed to spend the holidays with his family, and they had agreed to call him in only direst circumstances. Which this was – very few members of the League were immune to nuclear radiation.

"No, you can't," Lois pleaded, and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "Please, Kal-El, no, please don't…"

Clark touched her face, knowing he shouldn't leave – whatever was going on with Lois was much worse than he could have imagined, bad enough that she had gone to extreme lengths to hide it. But it came down to this: Lois' emotional pain, or an unknown number of lives. It didn't matter to him that those lives weren't American; his dedication was to this planet, to the whole human race.

"Lois, I can't stay," he said, and his heart broke a little to say it to her. _I'll find a way to make it up to her tomorrow,_ he thought, and turned to go.

Only he heard her strangled little cry, almost a child's helpless denial, but he steeled himself against it. _Tomorrow. Tonight, if I get in early enough. She has to understand, this needs to be dealt with __**now**__._ A part of him that some of his marital problems were due to that little voice telling him it could wait until tomorrow, but when tomorrow came there was always something else that had to be dealt with right then.

He couldn't afford to think about it, and ruthlessly turned his mind away from his family, toward his mission. Clark brushed past Richard on the way into the house, almost running, and once the bedroom door closed behind him he turned on the super-speed. Less than a second after he'd come in, Clark was gone, and Superman was flying east at something slightly less than the speed of light.

…

_This was the biggest mistake of my life,_ Kala thought, her stomach in an uproar as she walked out on the stage. The microphone sat out front mocking her, and the crowd looked bored. She wasn't the main attraction; she was just the hopeless amateur singing karaoke until the _real_ band came on. Her hands were shaking, her vision was blurred, and the lyrics of her first song had completely evaporated from her mind. _I can't do this. No way. I'm gonna run screaming from the stage. I need to pick another career, like accounting – I don't have the guts to be a rock star._

The terror of stage-fright seemed to be flowing down, making her mouth dry, making her heart race, and making her knees weak. But something, somewhere, deep inside, roared up in rebellion. _Who are you to say I don't have the guts? I'll show you __**guts**__, damn you. I'll rock this place like it's never been rocked before._

That stiffened her spine. Kala tossed her hair back and walked forward, a cloak of calmness seeming to descend on her. Her heart was still racing, but at least she was back in control – and her lyrics hadn't vanished. She adjusted the mike and nodded to Brandon, who had come back to run the karaoke machine.

As the first strains of the song began to play, Kala saw a few people in the crowd roll their eyes and turn away. Well, it _was_ a popular song by a popular singer, and this was an alternative kind of crowd. No matter – she'd show them. She'd get their attention and hold it, show them how even a fluffy song like this could be.

When she began to sing, her voice rolled out warm and smooth as honey, but with a much darker streak than the original song had contained. "There's only two types of people in the world," Kala sang. "The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe. Well baby, I'm a put-on-a-show kinda girl – don't like the back seat, gotta be first."

She had been learning the skills needed to perform solo: how to move, how to use the whole stage, how to convince everyone in the audience that she was looking at them and singing to them. Hanging with the theater kids helped a lot; Kala had even had a small role in a couple of plays, and she'd been developing stage presence. As she slid easily into the chorus, Kala pulled the mike off the stand and brought it with her, her hazel eyes seeming to pierce the crowd.

They _were_ paying attention. The original song hadn't seemed like anything a Goth girl would sing, but Kala was putting more challenge into it, making it into something far more daring than it had been. The people who had dismissed her were now looking up interestedly, and a few folks had moved closer to the stage.

In fact … there was _one_ familiar face in the crowd after all. Nick Powell was standing just in front of the stage now, staring up at her, his expression amazed. Kala grinned fiercely and let herself get lost in the music, all but a tiny part that looked directly into Nick's eyes and sang, "There's only two types of guys out there – ones that can hang with me, and ones that are scared. So baby, I hope that you came prepared…"

She strode to the very edge of the stage and glared down at him, letting him look straight up the impossible length of her leg, knowing he and every other guy in the place wanted her right then, and flying high on that knowledge. She finished the line with a husky growl, "I run a tight ship, so _beware_."

Flipping the microphone cord, Kala launched into the second chorus, her voice growing stronger as she stalked away from Nick. She played to the audience, exhilarated by the realization that Nick's eyes were tracking her every move. _Perfect,_ Kala thought, and let that last piece of herself disappear into the music. She couldn't remember ever feeling this happy, this confident, this powerful…

* * *

**Author's Note: 1) Thanks to Anissa's coworker, Mike, for the language assistance. Whenever Sebast speaks Spanish, you can credit Mike if it's right, and blame us if we mistranslate. 2) There is no Nastroma nuclear plant. It just felt weird to use a real one, almost like we were jinxing it. Given the high degree of synchronicity between this story and our real live, we weren't taking any chances. 3) The song Kala sings is **_**Circus**_** by Britney Spears.**

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	17. When the Spell Unravels

* * *

**Okay, so we reworked a couple of sections at the last minute, which is why you're just now getting it. *crosses fingers* Hopefully this version makes a bit more sense than the original. I expect next week's chapter to be a little more timely. ;)**

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When Clark dashed out the door without even the least little apology, thankfully without super-speed, it was up to Lois to come up with a plausible explanation. Fighting off the hurt and resentment on the balcony the way she had so many times in the last year, the reporter did what she had always done: shoved her own feelings aside to cover for him. "No big surprise on New Years' Eve. Seems the guy running the International desk tonight wound up holding a news-worthy baby that was too big for him," she said as calmly as she could, explaining Clark's sudden departure with the shrug and the poker face of a long-time veteran of the news game. "There's something going on out there tonight that's too hot to miss. So hot he didn't even get the chance to explain. Big surprise. And with him being editor, it's his baby now; he'll be back in time." Cat Grant and Tobie Raines stared at her as she spoke, taking in her crossed arms, her up-tilted chin, and the narrow gleam in her eyes. The long-time friends glanced at one another then, and each woman saw her own expression mirrored on the other's face: utter disbelief.

_She's mad as hell,_ Tobie thought, and asked cautiously, "You all right, Lane?"

It was all the more clear just how tight a grip Lois had on her emotions when she focused her attention on Raines: long years of friendship let her see the fine cracks in façade that most others would miss. "I'm fine," she replied in denial of those fissures, her tone cool. Almost too cool. The laugh that followed this statement sounded almost natural, Lois adding, "God knows that it's not the first time and it won't be the last. All part of being married to a reporter, as most of us here know."

"Hear, hear," Maggie said with a little more enthusiasm than the comment merited, raising her glass. It gave her a chance to cast a warning glance at Tobie, but the brunette had already taken the hint.

Cat managed to change the topic, and Tobie gave her a quick pat on the shoulder to let her know her adept handling was appreciated. By now both of Lois' oldest friends knew that she wasn't just mad – the shine in her eyes wasn't happiness in the least - she was fighting back tears. They also knew if they tried to offer support, Lois would just get angrier. She wasn't the cry-on-your-shoulder type; more the bite-your-head-off kind.

The last man who'd made Lois weep had suffered for it. Not Richard – they'd had problems, but even Tobie had to admit he cared a great deal for her. Not Elliot, either; there had been a lot of aggravation with him, but no tears. To find Lois crying over a man, Tobie had to remember all the way back to their college days. She, Cat, and Lois had split the rent on a small apartment, three journalism majors under one roof, rapidly becoming the best of friends. Lois had been seeing a guy called Cameron for several semesters, keeping it strictly a weekend thing; she needed her weeknights to study and work, already an intern at the _Daily Planet_. A class had been canceled, and Lois had decided to go visit her boyfriend unexpectedly.

She'd caught Cameron in bed with not one, but _two_ other girls, and no excuse whatsoever. Lois hadn't made much of a scene, turning on her heel and storming out without a word, but she had made it _very_ clear that she and Cameron were finished. Men were a distraction she could ill-afford, anyway, or so Lois had said at the time. Most women in a situation like that would've turned to their friends for comfort, and an all-night session of ice cream, booze, and bitching about men would have been prescribed. Not Lois. She just went on about her business with a peculiar glimmer in her hazel eyes, a newly keen edge to her temper and her tongue. That dry, cold determination had infuriated Tobie and Cat more than sobs ever could. They knew she had cried over it, but Lois wouldn't admit to the tears.

Cameron had foolishly come to Lois' apartment a few days later to beg her forgiveness. Lois hadn't been home, but Tobie had lied, inviting Cameron in. Once he was in their tiny living room, she'd locked the door and called out to Cat, letting her know _who_ was now trapped in the apartment with them. The next fifteen minutes or so were still a blur in Tobie's memory, but she remembered grabbing the golf club the girls kept behind the sofa in case of intruders, and she remembered Cat throwing that godforsaken lava lamp she had.

Oh yes, by the time he had made it out of their apartment and to his elderly Corvette, Cameron was suffering indeed. Tobie grinned; Cat had thrown a good-sized rock through the back window, and she herself had screamed "_Fore,_ you bastard!" before bashing in two side windows. He'd peeled rubber out of the parking lot, Tobie and Cat screaming obscenities in his wake.

Justice had been done, in Tobie's opinion – Cameron's bruises were nothing more than the outward evidence of what he'd done to Lois' heart. He hadn't even pressed charges, not wanting to admit that two fairly petite women had beaten the crap out of him. The triumphant pair had managed to straighten up the apartment before Lois got home, and had never told her what they'd done. She knew, of course – Cameron showed up in the class the next day, his appearance igniting a wave of gossip, and Lois was a good enough reporter to connect his black eye and the newly-bent golf club.

They'd never talked about it, any more than they talked about their little intervention in Cat's life, when the drinking had gotten out of hand. They just did it, pulled together and helped each other, and then went back to quarreling like a trio of bad-tempered cats. And whatever was going on right now with Lois, Cat and Tobie would be there to help her, no matter what it was.

_Too bad the solution won't be as easy as kicking Clark's ass,_ Tobie thought. _One, even Cat would have to stand on a freakin' chair, he's so tall. Two, I'd feel guilty about it. I actually __**like**__ the guy, and I don't say that about a lot of men. Beating him up would be like kicking a great big puppy. Three, I just can't believe he'd deliberately hurt Lois. He's been starry-eyed in love with her ever since he met her, and he's taken everything she can dish out. I've lived with her, I know she's no sweet-tempered peach, but he actually __**likes**__ that about her. Most of the time he acts like he'd just about lie down and let her walk all over him._

She sighed; this was nothing that could be solved quickly or easily. Tobie stole a little glance at Lois and saw her smiling at Richard, but her mouth was oddly tense. At least Lana was nearby; the redhead had proven herself quite worthy of joining their odd circle of friends. She cared about Lois as much as any of them, and if anyone could get Lois to talk about what was bothering her without getting their head chewed off for asking, it was Lana.

"Any idea what's up?" That was Maggie's voice, and Tobie managed not to startle. Even after all these years, her wife could still sneak up on her; damn sneaky cops, always prowling around.

"Not a clue," Tobie sighed. "You?"

Maggie shook her head slowly. "I was sure she and Clark were about to go ring in the new year a little early; she's been parading that dress under his nose since we got here, and he definitely appreciates it. Then he's running out of here like he's been shot at, and she's acting squirrelly. I wish I knew what they said to each other."

"It could really be a story," Tobie offered. "That'd explain it, if he ran off to do his job. I'd be pretty pissed if your pager went off right about now, I'll tell you."

Maggie smiled. "I know how much you hate me being on call, Tobe. What bugs me is, nobody's going to die if he doesn't answer the phone. There are other people at the _Planet _who can handle the story. So why would he run out like that?"

Tobie didn't have an answer for that right away, biting her lip worriedly. "Red will get it out of her eventually," she said, watching Lana slip Lois a glass of sparkling white grape juice instead of the champagne she'd been downing a little too quickly. "If it's a really big story, he might want it to himself – Lois does that too, you know. Can't settle into being management. Whatever it is, I bet we'll know by tomorrow night."

"I hope so," Maggie said, and her quiet voice was tinged with worry. "I have a bad feeling about this all of a sudden."

"Superstitious cop," Tobie said lightly, trying not to think about the shiver than ran down her back at those words. "You all get nutty about your hunches."

The blonde inspector chuckled. "I wish," she replied. "The thing is, by now I should hope I know when someone's lying to me. Or at least holding back on the whole truth."

…

_See Who I Am_ was the most technically demanding song of the three, but Kala had been so exhilarated that she'd simply soared through it, her voice rising strong and pure to hit all the high notes. Then it was on to the Nickelback song, a racy choice, and Kala dropped into the lower part of her range, singing most of it in a husky, challenging tone.

Nick was looking up at her, and the amazement and admiration she saw in his eyes encouraged her. Elise's excitement over the phone had helped get Kala onstage, and now the fierce gleam in Nick's eyes spurred her on. She'd been making eye contact with everyone in the audience, letting them think she sang to each of them, but certain lines she'd sung to Nick alone. Usually the lines that could be interpreted suggestively. Kala couldn't have explained why she was doing that, only that it felt right, and she wasn't consciously thinking about how to sing each line or how to move. All of that was being handled by the part of her that was completely in tune with the music, lost in the rhythm and the lyrics and the pulse of the crowd. The last actual thought she'd had was during the instrumental section of _See Who I Am_, when her adrenaline really kicked in. Kala had thought to herself, _Why the hell does anyone in the industry bother to do drugs when they can do __**this**__? What could possibly compare to how this feels right now? No drug could ever give a high this clean, this pure, this wild – this is __**life**__, this is __**music**__, this is __**perfect**__._

"And now I know who you are," she sang to Nick, "it wasn't that hard, just to figure you out." The music stopped a beat behind her, and Kala tipped her head back, trying to catch her breath, her heart racing.

The club exploded into a roar of applause. Kala, who moments ago had been singing sultry lyrics and giving heated stares worthy of a performer twice her age, suddenly felt like a little girl again. She laughed, a high excited laugh of pure joy, and her dazzling smile evoked even more cheers from the crowd. "Thank you!" Kala called out, and blew a kiss to them all.

Now the nervousness was back, her stomach churning again, part of her still trying to believe she'd just _done_ that. Kala forgot about the possibility of an encore, hung up the mike, and turned to run offstage. The Flying Foxes were waiting to come up, and her heart skipped a beat to see the _band_, people who had actually _sold albums_, clapping for her as they mounted the stage.

She turned again, thinking to try the other side of the stage and get the heck out the way of the people being paid to perform, and then she saw Nick again. He had shoved his way right up to the very edge of the stage, and held his arms out. Only Kala could have isolated his voice among the thunderous applause when he yelled, "C'mere! I've got you!"

An instant's decision, and Kala ran to the edge and leaped into his arms. Nick caught her, hugged her tight, Kala throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him back, half-afraid she'd burst from sheer elation. Nick pulled back only to catch Kala's face and kiss her.

A lot of other people were trying to reach her, too, to congratulate her, but Kala wasn't aware of them. Nick kissed her like they were the only two people in the room, the only two people in the _world_, and it only felt right to respond. She wound her fingers into his hair and kissed him back, and applause and wolf whistles rang out around them.

…

Kal-El surveyed the scene, unable to shake an awful sinking feeling of helplessness. "Reactor four began to overheat almost two hours ago," Bruce's voice said over the comm. "The automatic cooling systems failed, and the backup systems weren't activated. By the time someone noticed how far into the red the control gauges were, the reactor core had already begun to melt. Management initiated emergency shutdown, and employees were already evacuating when the fuel-coolant interaction occurred."

"Which is when the steam explosion happened," Diana said grimly. "Do we know how many people were trapped inside?"

"Not precisely," Bruce replied. "The good news is, the core-debris is still contained; we won't have to deal with a significant release of radioactive material into the environment."

"The interior of the building is still hot, though," Kal-El guessed.

"In terms of radiation and temperature, yes," J'onn said. "While the emergency shutdown procedures did abate the nuclear reaction, the interior of the plant is still unsafe due to structural instability caused by the steam explosion, the remaining radiation, and the high temperatures." He paused, and added, "Combustion is likely for any flammable material brought near the core-debris."

_That leaves out one more member of the team,_ Kal-El thought. He, Diana, and J'onn were all immune to nuclear radiation, but J'onn wouldn't be going inside if temperatures were that high. The Martian's particular weakness was fire, and Kal-El could no more ask him to go inside the reactor building than J'onn would have asked him to visit that chunk of kryptonite still circling Saturn.

"J'onn, we'll need you to coordinate," Kal-El said. "These comms may not work inside. Your telepathic abilities can also help us search for survivors."

"Of course," the Martian replied. "First priority is to drain the coolant that has flooded the sub-basement. We cannot risk another steam explosion, though we have some time before the core debris melts through the concrete floor. Rescue of the survivors may begin concurrently."

Hal Jordan arrived then, a faint green-glimmering sphere surrounding him. His ring was capable of creating a complete biosphere for him, as well as shielding him from radiation. _When one has to stand aside, another steps in,_ Kal-El thought gratefully.

"Sorry I'm late," Hal said. "Plans?"

"You should wear breathing masks inside," J'onn cautioned. "While you are both immune to the radiation, you do not want to inhale radioactive material and carry it in your lungs."

"Good point," Kal-El said with a chill, thinking that was the _last_ thing he wanted to bring home on New Year's Eve.

"The interior is extensively lead-shielded," Bruce's voice told them over the comm. "Clark, we won't have your x-ray vision, so we'll have to rely on J'onn locating survivors by telepathy. You and Diana split up; one of you should manually open the sluice gates to let the floodwater out, the other will take Hal and start bringing the survivors out. Whoever opens the sluices can catch up to the rescue party afterward."

Kal-El met Diana's gaze. They'd known each other for several years now and worked together often enough that they understood each other very well. He liked Wonder Woman quite a lot; she was an excellent complement to his own powers, and in spite of some differences in ideology they made a very good team.

Now, no words were necessary. Diana nodded and went to open the sluices, a task that would require swimming through irradiated water. Kal-El and Hal hurried for the reactor building, both of them listening for J'onn's directions. Kal-El managed to spare one thought for what he'd rather be doing this evening, and sighed. _I hope Lois is okay. I didn't want to leave her, but seconds count here._

…

The Flying Foxes show had been fantastic; Kala loved their music anyway, but hearing it live was even better. Throughout the evening, Nick had been very attentive, dancing only with Kala and bringing her something to drink before she even realized she was thirsty. She'd been a little wary of the drink, actually, but couldn't detect even the slightest taste of alcohol. Her Kryptonian metabolism would likely protect her from it anyway, if Nick _was_ trying anything.

The show was over by ten-thirty, and most of the people in Fuel were probably planning on staying at the club for the after-party. Nick had other ideas. He'd leaned in close so Kala could hear him, and said, "Let's go get some dinner. I know a pretty good place that's open tonight."

It sounded like a good idea to Kala; she was hungry and thirsty and her ears were ringing from the music. Besides, they would be in public, and she'd told her parents she and Sebast intended to stay out until curfew. It wasn't that much different from her stated plans. Kala had let Nick drive her to a very nice little Indian restaurant, some place where he apparently knew the owners, and she had even let him buy her dinner. They had an excellent selection of vegetarian dishes, and Kala remembered the location for future reference.

They left the restaurant at almost eleven, and Kala got back into Nick's car. She'd told him at dinner what time she had to be home and where she lived, so she expected him to head for that side of town. Kala didn't pay much attention to the drive, though. She and Nick were still thoroughly engrossed in conversation.

"I bet if you go back there tomorrow, the manager will want to sign you on," Nick was saying. "You were good, Kala. More than good; you were _great_. You should have a contract already."

"I don't want to push it," she said. "I want to finish school first. Everybody who gets signed as a teenager goes completely nuts – the money goes to their heads, and next thing you know they're being photographed drunk and panty-less getting out of a car. That's not my style."

"You've got more brains than that," Nick told her. "You won't get sucked into all that bullshit. You've got more _talent_, too. Half these singers, they're just pretty girls who sound good in a studio. You can sing _live_ – no backup, no fancy recording equipment that can fix your pitch mistakes, just you, a microphone, and an audience."

"Still, I'm gonna finish school," Kala insisted. "If I'm as good as you say, I can break into the industry anytime."

"With a voice like that, you can do anything you want," Nick said.

Kala laughed at his flattery – though he did sound sincere – and looked out the window. That was odd; they were pulling into one of the parks by the river. Kala recognized it with a faint chill. Nick hadn't taken her home; they were as far from Reeve Plaza as they could get without leaving town or crossing a bridge. "Hey, Nick, what gives?" she asked coolly. "I thought you were taking me home. Did Mapquest fail you or something?"

Nick smiled, pulling into a parking space. There were other cars down by the river, but this wasn't a prime spot for watching the fireworks, so they were quite alone at this end of the park. He looked at Kala and replied, "I said I'd get you home by curfew. We have plenty of time for a side trip."

Kala made a point of looking around. "A side trip to a mostly-deserted park in the middle of the night? Really, Nick. What're you up to?"

He turned toward her and rested one arm on the back the bench seat. "If you were half as sophisticated as you pretend you are, Kala, you'd already know." Nick's voice was softly teasing, but the invitation was clear.

Invitation and not demand; if Kala had felt an ounce of pressure, she would've turned on him. Guys who pressured Kala tended to learn better very quickly. But this was just Nick, fooling around as usual, waiting to see if she'd take the bait or chicken out. And after he'd been treating her like a grownup all evening, she couldn't very well turn into a silly little girl all of a sudden, could she?

Kala crossed her arms and leaned back against the door, smirking at him. "Oh, really?" she asked, in the same taunting, playful tone. "What makes you think I'm interested?"

It would have been very easy for him to slide across the bench seat toward her, and Kala hadn't thought of that until now; she'd merely noticed that the car didn't have the bucket seats she was used to. But Nick didn't move toward her. He just grinned lazily, his infuriating, knowing grin. "A lot of little things," he answered. "The way you smile. The way you kissed me at the club. The way you're not demanding to be taken home right now."

"And if I did tell you to take me home?" she asked, lifting her chin and looking at him imperiously. _You don't know me, Nick,_ Kala thought. _ You think you do, but you're wrong. And you __**really**__ don't know me well enough to be presumptuous._

Nick waited a few seconds, then reached out and softly stroked her face. One fingertip traced the line of her brow, the curve of her cheek, down to the corner of her jaw. "If that's what you want, Kala, I'll take you home," he said, his voice wistful. "But I wish you would stay. Just a little while."

A little voice in the back of her head was warning her to be careful, he was five years older than her, and him treating her like a young woman wasn't necessarily a good thing … but that voice was being drowned out by a lot of others. One was still high on adrenaline from singing, wanting to celebrate this night – none of her friends or family had seen her performance, but Nick had, and he understood why her blood ran hot. Another couldn't back down from his challenge, no matter how little pressure he was putting on her, and wanted to turn it around so _he_ was the one put on the spot. And still another liked Nick, _really_ liked him; no other guy got under her skin like he did, and those kisses at the club still burned in her memory.

All of that made her say, "Maybe," and her heart started to race again at her own daring. Nick smiled, a delighted grin that reminded her faintly of Dustin, and _then_ he slid toward her. Kala couldn't help but chuckle just before he kissed her. What could be the harm in a couple of kisses, anyway?

…

None of her guests had the slightest clue how little Lois was actually 'there' at the party at this point. The brilliant, infectious smile and razor-sharp wit were simply her default setting, randomized while she tried to keep a grip on herself. It felt like walking through a fog, a fog that was stripping away all of the armor that she'd known all her life. And the weakness she felt just frustrated her more. Since when had she needed Kal-El's presence to save her from her own failings? She should be stronger than this; it was expected of her by everyone. Besides, she had long been used to his not being here. What was one more sudden absence in a lifetime of them? Even that thought infuriated her. Being selfish was something she had never been able to afford to be as a hero's wife. Yet again, she forced the thought aside. _Not now. I'll deal later_.

Laughing along with one of Ron's anecdotes animatedly, she began to compartmentalize her thoughts. Being blind-sided by Eastlake this afternoon shouldn't have been enough to unsettle her like this, although she felt like the world's biggest fool not to have seen that coming. What, now that she was a married older woman, the rules of flirting didn't apply to her? She could say and do whatever she wanted and the guy in question was not expected to jump to conclusions? Why have it surprised her? The easy answer was just that: the fact that she was so much older than him and married. Her own husband didn't even pay that much attention to her these days. How could a young man be interested in her, even just that way? Most especially that way?

What made it worse was the fact that she had even started to genuinely like Eastlake, although she was aware that some of that might have to do with the fact that he had something she had wanted. _Wanted_, hell. _Needed_. Needed to keep her family safe. Luthor seemed to be drawing closer to the surface, the ten-year mark of his last escapade having passed, and she needed to be ready. He was daring her, hiding in what both of them would consider plain sight. Old sins were coming home to roost and she needed to be ready, to know what direction he would strike from. The family had to be protected, regardless of whatever issues were currently going on within.

Breaking away from the rest of the party with apologies, she went to make herself a drink. The tension amongst the four of them at Christmas had calmed in the last few days, although Kala and Jason had been casting wary looks at each other from time to time. It hurt her heart to see it; the twins had always been so close, being each other's support throughout their lives. Even when they didn't come to either her or the other three, it had been clear that they shared their secrets between themselves. Now they seemed to fight more than anything else and it wasn't the playful bantering that they had been so prone to indulge in. And she knew she was partly to blame; whenever Kala decided to have a temper tantrum over something Lois herself didn't agree with, her daughter would drag poor Jason into it, usually with the results going in their mother's favor. And that never set well with Kala. Lois could hardly believe at times that this sullen child could be the same affectionate and loving baby girl that she had raised. Somewhere along the line Kala had started resenting her in a way that she just couldn't understand and couldn't stop from getting worse.

The only one that had seemed to get through to Kala other than her over-permissive father had been her grandmother. Emotional pain pierced her keenly at that thought, making Lois pause in her automatic circulation at her own party. It had been six months since her mother's death and the memory was enough to bring tears to her eyes. There had been a huge hole that opened up inside of her with Ella's passing, a void into which she couldn't bear looking. It was as if she had awakened one morning to find her right arm gone; the loss had been sudden and brutal.

Lois steeled herself against the moisture she felt coming to her eyes as she tipped back the vodka martini she had made herself; the burn of the liquor made it easier. It had all happened in a blur, but she hadn't allowed herself to mourn where others could see beyond the moment of Mom's death. She couldn't; she was expected to be the strong one, to get all of the details of Ella's wishes worked out. There had been slips when reminders of the loss caught her off-guard, but she had kept the pain mostly inside. _If only Momma was here, she could tell me how to fix all of this. She'd be more than a little aggravated with me, but she'd explain where I went wrong and how to get it back to normal. She'd tell me I wasn't a complete screw-up. How in the hell have I managed to make a mess of my life in the half a year she's been gone?_

_Why tonight? Why is the entire world crashing down tonight?_ Lois topped up her drink, nodding automatically to her friends, as she struggled against the wave of despair and anger rumbling within. She assumed the JLA had called him – only their issues tended to keep him out _this _late.

For the last five years, things with the JLA had been growing steadily worse. At first, it was a great idea – the League took a lot of pressure off Kal-El, and he had more time with his family and his day job. When there were only a handful of known superheroes in the world, they'd all watched each other's backs, jumped in to lend a hand, and eased each other's burdens.

Now there more, so many that the League had to deal with a certain amount of bureaucracy. Black Canary had been elected chairwoman of the JLA; four years ago, they hadn't needed a chairperson or an official meeting place. It was the difference between a group of friends playing basketball on a neighborhood court, and the endless rosters and rules of the NBA. And Kal-El was one of the founding members; he had to be there for every meeting, had to intervene in every dispute, and more and more often, he had to lend a hand to the newer members of the superhero community.

When it was just him, the World's Defender, he'd seemed to know he couldn't personally handle _every_ incident. He got to almost all of the major disasters in the world, took care of most of the minor disasters in the U.S., and dealt with practically anything that caught his eye in Metropolis, even to the occasional kitten stuck in a tree.

That still left time for himself and his family, though. Lois was used to her husband forgetting his jacket or his tape recorder or his keys, and taking five minutes to stop a robbery in progress or prevent a car accident. And she could deal with his morning rounds of the world, and with him disappearing to cope with a hurricane or a landslide. The League was supposed to help Kal-El take care of the world, but now he was gone _more_ often, 'assisting' with things he would have considered outside his purview ten years ago. And God alone knew what the Giant Floating Head had to say about all this' Jor-El was probably ecstatic that his son was fulfilling the role of savior.

Did no one else realize that Kal-El had an obligation to more than his mission? Lois knew perfectly well that he _needed_ her as much as she needed him – or she'd used to know that, before. She'd been the one helping him work through the emotional trauma of not being able to save _everyone_. She'd been the support that never wavered when he realized just how endlessly, impossibly Sisyphean his father's mission was.

And perhaps only she realized how little sleep he'd been getting lately. Kal-El was developing tunnel vision, focused on his mission and no longer thinking about _why_ he did what he was doing. After all, Lois had written the twin editorials, _Why the World Doesn't Need Superman_ and _Why the World Needs Superman_. She knew that there was such a thing as too much help, and if people relied on Superman to fix _every_ problem in their lives, he'd actually be going against the heart of his father's mission. He was here to inspire humanity to better itself, not to hold their hands every step of the way.

Rather like the difference between parenting a child into responsible, self-sufficient adulthood, and spoiling them into permanent dependent immaturity. Lois scowled, knocking back her drink. Unfortunately, she no longer knew _what_ her husband was thinking about the ideals behind his mission, or his ultimate purpose in life. He didn't _tell_ her. They didn't talk about a lot of things anymore – he hadn't even told her where he was going. She was just guessing it was the JLA this time; it always seemed to be the JLA lately. And maybe, just maybe, part of the reason why he felt so compelled to offer his assistance to everyone else in the League had to do with the fact that if you put the entire female roster in one room, you'd have enough clothing for maybe two whole outfits?

That vicious thought knocked Lois out of her loop for the moment. _Now I'm being a vindictive asshole,_ she told herself. _Cut it out, Lane. You can't be selfish and self-indulgent. Just suck it up and deal with it like you always have – he belongs to the world, not to you. That's why he was sent here. The __**mission**__ is his real wife, and you're just the mistress who gave birth to a couple complications._

Yet in spite of how much she tried to convince herself of that, a hurt, lonely part of her kept crying out, _What about our vows? What about loving me forever? What about defying his father and demanding that he be allowed to live a life of his own, not merely exist to serve others? What about all the times he's whispered in the depths of the night that __**I'm**__ the reason he keeps on, __**I'm**__ what gives him strength, and the kids give him hope and determination? What about the fact that he does what he does not just for the world, but for __**us**__?_

_When did everything start to change?_

…

The hour was growing late, and Jason and Giselle had drifted away from the main party. They were the only teenagers there, after all, and even on their best behavior they could only pass for adults for a little while. Jason found them a sheltered little nook from which they could observe their elders without feeling like they were underfoot, and for a while they just relaxed, enjoying each other's company.

Jason started to get up to refill their sparkling white grape juice, but Giselle beat him to it. "You got the last refill," she said, taking his glass and giving him a bright smile. Jason let her, sighing as she walked away. At least she'd forgiven him for earlier this week. Giselle wasn't ready to forgive Kala, though, and Jason couldn't blame her for that.

Fortunately, she was more willing to accept _his_ flaws. Although she was a little distracted at first, as the evening grew later Giselle was once more her usual sweet, affectionate self. They'd talked about a lot of things, including future plans; lunch tomorrow at first, and then further ahead. The Davenports were going to Star City in the spring, and Giselle had hinted that Jason might be invited. That thrilled him – her mom was a little hard to read at times, but such an invitation demonstrated trust quite clearly.

Giselle came back with two glasses, handing one to Jason as she sat down beside him. He slid his arm around her shoulder, kissed her cheek, and sipped the grape juice…

…which wasn't grape juice. "Um, Giselle," he began.

"Yes, silly, it's the champagne," she whispered. "No one cares. It's not like half a glass will hurt … and I don't know if you've noticed, but all the grownups are drinking the really hard stuff." She took a sip of champagne and licked her lips.

She had a point; champagne wasn't going to harm Jason's half-Kryptonian metabolism. Besides, his parents had often allowed him and Kala a few sips of wine with dinner, or a scant quarter-glass of champagne at New Year's. All four of them agreed that it was better to allow the kids to taste alcohol in a low-key, parentally-supervised setting, than to prohibit it and have drinking become an object of fascination. Too many teenagers, entranced by the lure of the forbidden, wound up binge-drinking at parties and doing stupid, dangerous things.

Jason sipped at the champagne. "You're right," he said, and turned the conversation back to spring break. Giselle leaned against him with a happy sigh, and he draped his arm around her shoulders. She felt so right in his arms; this was the perfect New Year's Eve, with all the convivial party sounds going on around them, but a little oasis of quiet in which they could talk and cuddle.

…

Nick was definitely the best kisser Kala knew; he took his time, never rushed her, kissed her softly and slowly and thoroughly until she felt absolutely indolent. He showed none of the nervousness that she usually got from boys, none of the silly nose-bumping or awkward laughter.

He kissed her jaw, tilting her face away, and moved to nuzzle her neck. Kala tensed; every other boy who'd tried that wound up tickling her. But Nick didn't try grazing on her neck. He kissed her there, his lips firm on her skin, and moved down a little further from the curve of her jaw before kissing her again.

Kala stretched, offering him her neck; that felt _good_. Nick pulled her a little closer and kissed the place where her neck met her shoulder. Kala gasped and shivered, and then he was mouthing that same spot, and somehow the next few minutes became a blur. Kala was lost in a warm fog, Nick's lips and hands weaving a spell around her.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice half-breathless and dreamy.

Kala smiled, turning to kiss his neck, running her fingers through his hair. Now _he_ was the one lost in his feelings, and she'd caught him at last. This was the same game she'd been playing all along, only with high school boys the stakes never went higher than kisses. Nick was older, the stakes were higher, but Kala was winning just the same. She had him wrapped around her finger, whispering words of adoration in her ear, and he'd do anything for her.

Time no longer mattered. The fact that Nick wasn't exactly her boyfriend didn't matter either, and the knowledge that her family had no idea where she or who she was with also seemed far less important. All of that had been swept away by her feelings of triumph – Kala had not only wowed the crowd at Fuel, she'd also managed to put her spell on Nick. She laughed softly, nuzzling his cheek, so proud and confident that she felt as if she could handle anything…

…until she felt his hand slip around her knee, tugging her toward him. Nick meant to pull her onto his lap, and that realization hit Kala like ice water in her veins. This was _not_ some high school boy she was playing with; Nick might be expecting more, much more than she was prepared to give. Worse, she'd led him to this, encouraged him, challenged him, practically demanded that he treat her like a woman his own age. And now here she was, and did she really think he'd stop at this?

_Some Kryptonian noble you are,_ a cold voice sneered from the back of her mind. _Rutting in the front seat of a near-stranger's car like the stupidest of human girls. All it took for him to get you was applause, dinner, and a little flattery, too. Grandfather would be so __**proud**__._

All of that happened in an instant. "Whoa," Kala said shakily, pulling away. "Presumptuous much?"

Nick took his hands off her immediately, looking down and biting his lip. "You're right," he said, his voice strained. "That's way too fast. Kala…" He met her eyes, and there was embarrassment there, but also warmth. "I'm sorry."

She didn't know whether to accept his apology, offer one of her own, or demand haughtily to be taken home. Kala's mind whirled with confusing emotions and the nagging sense that she was _far_ out of her depth. She didn't know what to do; she'd never been in this situation before, never lost her mind over a guy.

The decision was taken from her, however, by a loud explosion that buffeted the car windows. Kala whirled, her stomach sinking, and saw the first burst of fireworks shimmering over the river. Fireworks that were supposed to go off exactly at midnight … and her curfew was eleven-thirty.

"Oh, _fuck_," she moaned, and dove out of Nick's car in sheer panic.

…

The clock struck twelve, the huge lighted ball on Carlin Publishing Tower dropped, and thousands of people in Centennial Square went wild, cheering and laughing and kissing each other. The first volley of fireworks burst into starry glory over the river, and bands struck up _Auld Lang Syne_.

But on the rooftop terrace of the Reeve Plaza building, there was no holiday cheer. Lois had held on, knowing Kal-El would show up at the last minute, ready to be mad at him but knew she would forgive him for a New Year's kiss. When Kala's curfew came and went, Lois firmly shoved that knowledge aside. The traffic was horrendous, and besides, she was with Sebast. A lecture tomorrow and a couple days' restriction ought to be enough. She had so much more to worry about than Kala blowing off curfew a little on a night like this, her mind returning to that yearning plea for Kal-El to just get home in time.

The reporter wrapped her immense will around one thought – Kal-El would come home. Late, of course, but he would show up just in the nick of time, like he always did. She wouldn't have to leave with this gnawing ache any longer – tonight she'd show him how much she appreciated him, and tomorrow they'd talk. About Luthor, about promises made to keep a family safe, about secrets borne in silence for a decade. He would show up at the last minute … he _would_…

But he didn't. Lois went numb with shock. For the first time, Kal-El had failed to be there when she really, truly needed him. She was alone, on New Year's Eve, while the fireworks flared and all her friends kissed their loved ones. Even _Jason_ had his girlfriend here, but Lois' _husband_ was missing.

Richard and Lana had never left her side, and they both saw the look on her face. Both of them had been secretly hoping that Clark would make a surprise reappearance at the last second; if he could deal with a volcanic eruption on his wedding day, surely he could handle whatever this was before midnight?

But to their dismay, Clark didn't show. Richard and Lana looked at each other as everyone else turned to the hostess. Lois had frozen, wide-eyed, looking as if she didn't know where she was. Before the questions started, someone had to do something…

Richard caught Lois and kissed her full on the lips. _That_ at least got her attention; he felt her gasp and start to tremble in his arms. He was shocked to realize how close to tears she was; when he stepped back from the kiss, he cupped her face to hide her expression from the other guests. "Don't worry, I'll bill Clark for my stand-in services," he said, in almost his usual bantering tone.

Jason had noticed something wrong, and he came to kiss his mother's cheek. He looked concerned; neither his father nor his sister had made it home by midnight. "Love you, Mom," he said softly, glancing from her to Richard. Giselle hovered behind him, her worried gaze flickering between all the adults.

"The three of you, scram," Lana said, laughing about as naturally as Richard. "Lois, go get off your feet; you've been up all day. I'll handle this."

Lois went without protest, darting a pained glance at Lana while Richard shepherded her into the house. The rest of the guests were all looking at Lana now, with varying degrees of puzzlement in their expressions. "Is she all right?" Ian asked – the only person in the group who didn't already know the answer.

Lana took a deep breath before saying, "She's fine. Just exhausted; it's been a long week for her, trying to get everything done between the holidays." She forced another chuckle before adding, "Lois actually went in and did a full day of work today, and Clark's out chasing stories past midnight. Kind of tells you how much ambition runs in the family."

Most of them chuckled politely, and accepted Lana's excuses for ending the party early. Tobie, however, hugged Lana a moment longer than usual, whispering in her ear, "Find out what's going on, Red, and share with us, dammit." Lana gave her a smile that hopefully promised full disclosure, when Lana intended no such thing.

Giselle had planned to stay until one in the morning, and her mom wouldn't be able to pick her up much earlier than that with this traffic. She sat next to Jason on the sofa and rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe him. He fidgeted nervously, constantly looking toward the master bedroom, where Richard had taken Lois. The door was closed, but Jason could easily have seen and heard what was going on – he just didn't want to know, shaken to the core of his soul by the distress in his mother's eyes.

Lois pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, unwilling to sob where her guests – and her son – could hear her. Richard sat beside her on the edge of the bed, holding her, rubbing her back in slow circles. "Hey, babe, it's okay," he whispered, and kissed her temple. She shivered again, and her hand was cold on his arm. "It's okay. Lois, don't. It's gonna be okay."

Lana had managed to get everyone out, and she went toward the bedroom with a purposeful stride. "Lana?" Jason whispered urgently.

"What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice as low as his as she stopped to stroke his hair. The poor boy was almost as distraught as his mother, and Lana tried to reassure him with a smile.

It wasn't working. "It's past midnight," he replied, "and Kala's curfew was eleven-thirty." He glanced worriedly at the bedroom door, and Giselle leaned in to hug him.

"She and Sebast are probably just stuck in traffic," Lana said, but he'd seen her anxious glance at the clock. "I'm going to talk to Lois… Giselle, honey, I'm sorry to cut your evening short, but do you think you could call your mother?"

"She's at a party," Giselle replied, biting her lip. "She said she'd be here in time to pick me up, but I can't reach her before then."

Lana's auburn brows lifted a little. No cell phone? No way for her teenage daughter to get in touch? Well, it wasn't how Lana would raise _her_ children, but Justine's parenting decisions were none of her business. "All right," Lana said. "We'll see what we can do. I'll be right back."

With that, she turned and went into the bedroom, feeling Jason's eyes on her. Lana closed the door behind her, and went to kneel in front of Lois, looking up at the reporter. "Sweetheart, are you all right?" she asked.

"Fine," Lois said, her voice hoarse from trying not to cry. "I'm fine, Lana. I'm just being stupid."

Richard and Lana exchanged a disbelieving look. They'd watched her all night, and they knew her well enough to see past her glib façade. _Maybe we waited too long,_ both of them thought at the same moment, and Richard jostled Lois lightly. "Hey now. Watch your mouth – that's my ex you're talking about."

"You're far from stupid," Lana said, her voice low and soothing. "I've heard plenty of words used to describe you, some of them profane, but no one ever calls you stupid. Tell me what's going on."

Lois dashed tears from her eyes and straightened her shoulders. "I'm okay," she insisted, taking a deep breath.

"And I'm the queen of England," Lana said, giving her a stern look. "Lois, there's nothing in the world you can't talk to me and Richard about. We know all each other's secrets, remember?"

A harsh bark of laughter was her only answer at first, then Lois gave her a very dubious look.

…

Kala _had_ to stop. She was panting so harshly she couldn't hear anything but her own breath. It was easy for her to run fast, but this was faster than she'd ever even imagined she could go, so fast the people she ran past had trouble seeing her. It helped that most of them had been drinking, but even so, this was a new speed record for her.

The problem was, she couldn't _keep_ that pace. Her legs ached, her lungs burned, and a sudden sharp pain in her side brought her to a staggering halt, still miles from home. Kala leaned against a lamppost, trying to catch her breath.

The boots weren't helping; now that she'd stopped running, her feet throbbed. Kala yanked her boots off as soon as she could, and held them in one hand. _I'm late,_ she thought. _I'm late, Mom's gonna kill me. I have to get to Dad first – he'll understand. Even if I have to tell him what I was doing, the edited version anyway, he'll understand why I'm late. But Mom will kill me for breaking curfew. She's been waiting for a chance to blow up at me._

She couldn't think about what had just happened in the car with Nick. Kala was already revolted at her own lack of control, blaming herself for everything. She'd behaved like any stupid little teenager, naïve and selfish, and all of her pride in her singing evaporated when she realized where that feeling of triumph had led her.

Gasping, she forced herself back into a run, her hose tearing against the concrete sidewalk. The only thought that remained in her head was _Gotta get home_.

…

_Only three fatalities,_ Kal-El thought, closing his eyes and letting the water spray directly onto his face. The decontamination shower probably wasn't necessary, but he was taking no chances. Right now his uniform was being decontaminated as well.

Unlike many movies, the experts on the situation recommended cleaning intact skin with plain old soap and water. So the employee locker rooms of a nearby and still intact reactor building had been commandeered; they were intended to be used for primary decontamination anyway.

_Only three,_ he told himself, but knew it wasn't the whole story. Some employees had remained at their posts, trying to shutdown the reactor, and they had likely absorbed fatal doses of radiation. It might take a few days, a few weeks, or even a few years, but anyone with that much exposure would eventually succumb. Kal-El couldn't let himself think about that, however. There were things in the world that he could not fix, people he could not save, but he had never been able to surrender gracefully. Conceding the point to death or fate simply wasn't in his nature.

Finished with his shower, Kal-El checked himself for any lingering radiation and found none. He found his uniform waiting in the next room, and dressed quickly, heading to the rest of the team. Fortunately, the public was giving them enough privacy that they could debrief without being overheard.

They were in varying states of exhaustion and unbalance; the Justice League of America did not, as a rule, accept failure lightly, and for them any casualties were failures. Bruce was positively livid over being forced to wait on the sidelines when lives were at stake, but with the high doses of radiation, even a protective suit might not have been enough to keep him safe. He knew it, and kept silent, but Kal-El knew the set of his mouth boded ill for anyone who crossed him in the near future. Hal and J'onn were both taking it quietly, introspective looks on their faces.

And Diana was scowling as she toweled the excess water out of her hair. "It was human error," she told Kal-El. "A simple mistake. One order misinterpreted, and then everything afterward came from the assumption that the first order had been followed correctly. One small mistake, one technician tired or bored or distracted."

"It's not as bad as it could have been," Kal-El told her. The Amazon was as sensitive to perceived failure as any of them, and she sometimes tended to take a larger share of the responsibility than was actually hers. "If you hadn't gotten the sluice gates open when you did, we could've had another steam explosion to deal with."

The three immediate fatalities had been a result of that first explosion, and all of them knew that a second, larger explosion would have cost even more lives. "We cannot prevent every accident," Kal-El said, meeting each League member's gaze in turn. "Our job is to help humankind, not to micromanage all of their affairs. None of us could have predicted this. All we could do is save as many as we could, and prevent any further catastrophe at this site. We did our best. People are alive today who wouldn't be here without us."

"You sure you're a reporter and not a spin doctor?" Bruce asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Bruce," Diana warned.

"Seriously," Bruce interrupted. "They say what you do on New Year's Day you'll do for the rest of the year. This isn't exactly my idea of a great time, and I _did_ have plans for this evening. Zee's in town." Only Kal-El saw Diana's eyebrows lift slightly, but she made no commentary.

Kal-El himself had to force down a grin. Always so focused on the mission, brusque and uncompromising on duty, Bruce only allowed himself to feel irritated after the fact for the interruption in his plans. As rarely as he took time off, it must have been very frustrating for the Dark Knight to have walked out on Zatanna, and then have to take a supporting role in the mission on top of that. _At least she's JLA reserve,_ Kal-El thought. _Bruce can expect to go home to some understanding instead of…_ He forced himself to break _that_ line of thought.

Kal-El settled for reminding his friend, "Bruce, 'they' also say you're an empty-headed playboy who's managed to burn down his own mansion, wreck several cars, and waste fantastic amounts of money. I wouldn't trust 'them' that much."

That got a tired chuckle from them all, and Kal-El continued, "Besides, in North America, it's not midnight yet."

"Actually, Clark, it's already twenty minutes past on the east coast," Hal corrected with a shrug.

Kal-El groaned and turned his hearing toward the party he'd missed, expecting to hear a thorough tongue-lashing from Lois. She had a right to be upset; in the middle of the rescue, he'd realized that he had forgotten to tell her where he was going and what was at stake.

The sound that actually came to his ears from across the thousands of miles was far different from the angry, muttered curses he expected. The rest of the team saw him go suddenly pale and wide-eyed as he whispered, "Oh, God…"

* * *


	18. Harder To Breathe

* * *

**_How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable_**_**  
**_**_So condescending unnecessarily critical?_**_**  
**_**_I have the tendency of getting very physical,_**_**  
**_**_So watch your step cause if I do you'll need a miracle..._**

**_And like a little girl cries in the face _**_**  
**_**_Of a monster that lives in her dreams,_**_**  
**_**_Is there anyone out there? _**_**  
**_**_'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe_**_**  
**_**_Is there anyone out there _**_**  
**_**_'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe..._**

~Maroon 5-_Harder to Breathe_

_

* * *

_The decision had been made that Lana and Richard would drive Giselle home, leaving Jason and Lois to keep vigil. He still didn't know what exactly Lois had said to them, but she must have convinced them she was okay. That left him alone with Mom, who was definitely _not_ okay. She'd retreated to her study, from which he could hear her tapping away intermittently at her laptop keyboard. Jason, who could hear just about anything in the apartment when he chose, thought it didn't sound like her usual working pattern. More as if Mom was trying to keep her son from finding out how upset she was.

It was a little late for that, he thought ruefully. Dad was out somewhere saving the world, Kala was late going on _really_ late, and either of those could be just cause for mother and son to seek each other's company and comfort. But something had to be very wrong for Lois to hide away in the study, and Jason's stomach felt queasy at the thought. He didn't want to go up and bother her, but he really hated sitting alone on the couch, watching the clock and worrying.

He was so wrapped up in his anxieties that he didn't hear Kala until she burst in the door, panting heavily and clutching her side with the hand that wasn't carrying her boots. She looked disheveled, her hair windblown and her eyes wild. Jason jumped up, startled by her appearance, and practically yelped, "Where the hell have you _been_, Kal?"

"Had to … run…" she gasped, taking a few steps to lean against the wall.

Jason hadn't realized just how focused he had been on his sister until he nearly jumped at the sound of the voice coming from the second floor stairs. And the look on Mom's face wasn't friendly as she stared at Kala. He could almost feel the warmth of her irritation radiating off of her. "Really? And exactly where were you that you're more than half an hour late and out of breath? Looks like someone laid on the super-speed in public, hmm?"

The panicked expression fell from Kala's face, replaced by a mulish one. "I was out," she said, catching her breath. "I just lost track of time…"

There was no missing the flare in his mother's eyes. "Oh, come off it, Kala! You weren't out with Sebast," Lois snapped, cutting her off. "I called him at 12:15. He's home with his brother because his grandmother is in the hospital. There was no way he could have gone with you. Did you even go to Fuel?"

"Of course I did!" Kala retorted, taking an angry stride forward. Unfortunately, that brought her all the way into the living room, which was better-lit than the hall. Now Jason could see that the shadow on Kala's neck wasn't just her hair – from her jaw down to the collar of her blouse, her skin was marked with irregular purplish bruises. It took him a moment to realize those were _hickies_.

It seemed to only take that long for their mother to notice it as well, an instant of surprise passing over her features before her eyes narrowed. Jason knew her well enough to know that she was just barely reining in her infamous temper. "Really?" she said through gritted teeth, stalking down in the stairs toward her daughter. "From the looks of things, you may have, but that wasn't the only place you went. Your father will be thrilled. This is what he gets for trusting you out on New Year's."

Both of their gazes had gone to Kala's neck, and it was as if she'd only just realized the love-bites showed. Kala blushed furiously; she'd always been Daddy's little girl, and the mention of disappointing him stung her where nothing else could. But she wasn't the kind to back down when challenged. "So what, I can't have a boyfriend now?" she snapped, tossing her hair back defiantly. "Jason gets to have his little slut up in his room when the door's closed and nobody's home, but I come home with a couple hickies and you yell at me?"

Jason yelped in surprise at her betrayal. "Kal!" He couldn't add, _you promised not to tell_, but he wished he could.

"Kala, watch your mouth! And what you did tonight has nothing to do with your brother." Her mother's expression darkened, although it didn't seem possible that she could look any more livid than she did now.

His twin's hazel eyes swung to Jason, full of resentment. "Must be nice to be Mommy's favorite. You've been getting away with crap for _years,_ Jase. Nobody even yelled at you for breaking that cup in Smallville, except me, and I got yelled at for _that__!"_

Jason was too shocked by her sudden viciousness to do more than stare. Lois, however, wasn't so easily put off.

"I know what you're doing, Kala, and deflecting the blame on Jason doesn't change the facts. Your brother wasn't the one who was allowed to go out to do as she pleased on New Year's, despite the fact that I told your father I didn't think it was a good idea, and came home with her neck marked up, not to mention more than half an hour late!" Now Mom was right up on Kala now, jaw tight with fury. "And a closed door is pretty goddamn different than coming in here looking like this. It has nothing to do with whether one of you is favored over the other, whether you're trying the sympathy card or not. Your dad's not here right now; I am."

"And boy, do I know it," Kala shot back. "_He_ might have at least been worried if I was okay. It's _only_ half an hour, and they're _just_ hickies, Mother. There's no reason for you to freak out."

Every word out of Kala's mouth just seemed to dig her into an even deeper hole. "You may think you're sixteen going on thirty-five, young lady, but you're not there yet," Lois replied hotly. "Which is the exact reason why I didn't want you out of the house on a night like tonight, but your father caved over what his precious princess wanted, as usual. I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this little escapade, kiddo, because it stops now. You knew the house rules; you don't like it, tough shit. My house, my rules. You want to act like an adult and cat around like this, probably break your dad's heart? You can move your little butt out and see how well you do. It stops _**now**_."

Kala's mouth twisted in a furious scowl, and she glared right back at Lois. Only Jason seemed to see the tears smudging her eyeliner. "Oh, yeah? You're gonna throw me out over this? No wonder I don't bother trying to live by your rules. _Nothing _I do is ever gonna be good enough for you, so why bother trying?" She laughed harshly, the sound sour in Jason's ears, and added with a contemptuous snort, "You know what _really_ cracks me up, Mom? _You_ trying to tell _me_ how to act. As _if_."

"Kala, don't," Jason warned, his voice full of misery. It tore him apart to see the two women he loved best – his mother and his twin sister, the one who'd brought him into the world and the one who'd been beside him from the very beginning – fighting like this. He felt as though he was being slowly pulled in half. "Stop it. Please, just stop it."

Mom's eyes flicked over to him and he thought he saw a flash of guilt there before she turned away again. Every sign told him she didn't want to do this, that the brakes where off now. He also knew that this argument had been coming for a long time, and that there was nothing he could do without physically standing in between them. And both he and Mom knew that maybe he had done that a little too much. "Jason, honey, you need to stay out of this. Your sister has something she wants to say."

Those hazel eyes were again on the pair that matched her own, her expression dark. Anyone that knew her would've known just from her expression that Lois Lane was holding her tongue by a fraying thread. "Okay, we're waiting. Go ahead, Kala, let it out. Originally, you were only going to get grounded for the next two days, but since your mouth seems determined to write checks your ass can't cash, enlighten me. What exactly was that little snark supposed to mean?"

"It means you can't say anything to me," Kala shot back, taking a step toward Lois. That meant she spat the next antagonistic words right into her mother's face. "Where do you have the _right _to criticize me for doing something like this? You sure weren't perfect! Hell, from what I've heard, you were the same at my age ­– maybe worse! You're fucking _legendary_ for it! That's probably why Grandpa Sam made you move out _and now you're acting just like him_!"

Jason saw the rush of warmth over his mother's face, saw her hands clench tight, saw the wrathful expression that bloomed there. The young man could only wince in horror as it played out before his eyes. Kala had gone too far; they all knew it the moment the words had left his twin's lips, and he waited for the inevitable. And when it came, it occurred so fast that none of the three expected it, Lois' palm cracking against Kala's cheek with righteous fury and more than a little shame.

Kala's face crumpled in pain and surprise; the twins didn't quite have their father's invulnerability, so a blow like that hurt them as much as it hurt Lois. But it wasn't the physical pain that made tears glitter in Kala's eyes. She'd been frightened enough to just run home when a moment's thought would've led her to at least call the house. Something had terrified his gutsy sister right out of her wits, and the instant after Lois slapped her, she looked six years old again, scared and about to cry.

Lois drew in a breath, her face already softening when she realized what she had done, and Jason thought she might weep too. It was rare to see Kala look so vulnerable these days, and for a second he thought the two of them were so stunned by what had just happened that they might hug, cry on each other, and forgive. But then another expression stole over Kala's face, and this one was pure Lois: unadulterated outrage. None of the Lane girls dealt with fear and pain well; they tended to turn it into anger. And take it out on whoever had the audacity to hurt them.

Without a word, he saw Kala's expression grow determined and she cocked her arm back for a payback slap. Jason was already moving, trying to dive between them, but he was too slow for Kala, always too slow. Kala's hand whistled through the air, and Lois barely had time to flinch…

…before the French doors slammed open, the curtains blowing into the room. Kal-El was suddenly there in all of his primary-colored glory, gripping Kala's arm, and staring at her with a look of angry dismay that neither twin had ever seen their father use with them. "How dare you raise your hand to your mother!" he thundered, and Kala wilted. That wasn't just her Daddy's voice, that was _Superman_ scolding her, and she seemed to suddenly lose several inches of height.

There was a beat of silence, in which Kal-El released his daughter's arm, and then he added, "Kala, _you have the strength._ If you hit Lois, you could break her neck."

Kala stared at him, her eyes wide with comprehension. Jason's gut wrenched in sympathy with her; every nasty thing she'd said to Mom had come from fear and shame, and this just made it all _worse_. Kala took a stumbling step backward, her chest hitching, and the tears in her eyes began to spill over. "Daddy…" she whispered, choking back a sob.

Kal-El turned to Lois then, and the look he gave her was thunderous. She stiffened, glaring right back at him, her eyes shining with hurt and embarrassment. "Don't you go looking at me like that!" Lois snarled. "_She's_ the one who came in _half an hour after curfew_, after _lying_ about where she was going and who she'd be with!"

"I didn't lie," Kala protested, her voice barely audible, arms crossed around herself. Jason wanted to go to her, but he felt so torn; Mom had a point, and so did Kala, but neither of them should've been that mean to each other.

Lois' gaze tore into her daughter, snapping, "Sebast sure as hell didn't do _this_," as she grabbed at Kala's sleeve. Knowing what the move would reveal, Kala instinctively jerked away, but it was already too late. Lois had a good grip on the fabric, and that pulled the blouse down Kala's shoulder, showing the marks.

Kal-El looked at his daughter with genuine disappointment and pained surprise. Kala couldn't handle it; Jason saw her expression race through a half-dozen emotions before completely dissolving into tears. "No one ever tries to understand! I hate you! I hate this family!" she screamed, and bolted for her room in a torrent of tears.

Seeing the agony on his twin's face, Jason tried to catch her as she sprinted up the hall, to comfort her; he and Kala had always been each other's shoulder to lean on, as far back as they could remember. But not now. "Kal! Kal, wait! I…" Her bedroom door slammed shut in his face, and from the living room Jason could hear Mom and Dad starting to yell.

He leaned back against the door to his bedroom and slid down it, unable to help the way his chest was hitching. _This isn't right. __**This isn't right**__! Where did it all go wrong?_

…

At least the kids were out of it for now, Jason going into his own room and shutting his door after a few moments. Clark let loose a sigh and tried to shake himself back into some semblance of coherent thought, part of his mind still worrying about the nuclear reactor half a world away, and the team he'd left abruptly to finish dealing with it on their own. "Lois, what on earth…?" he began to ask.

Her teary eyes carried an angry, wounded light when she cut them up at him. She didn't even have to say a word; her air was one of accusation, her hands in fists at her sides and tension in every line of her body. There was a long moment where she didn't even speak, but when she did, her voice was trembling and low. "And _now_ you show up. _Now_ you want to know what's happening. After it's all over and done. You were too late this time, that's what."

"Lois, I'm sorry," he said, trying to keep the aggravation out of his tone, and not completely succeeding. "A nuclear reactor in Russia overheated and had a meltdown. There are only a handful of us who can even get near a situation like that. I had to go – if we didn't take care of it, it could've been another Chernobyl."

He could see the flicker of guilt across her face and it seemed as though it would blow over like it always did. There were moments when she would be hurt and infuriated at his being called away, but she always managed to cool down enough to understand why he had to be there. But this time that delicate jaw set, her eyes going cold. "Really? None of this would have happened if you had been here to stop it. Have you ever noticed that they're all a holocaust in the making, something only you alone could do? It's a shame that you can manage to save millions of lives from death, but you can't even be here when your family is falling apart. Or, at least, until the little princess is in trouble."

He stared at her disbelievingly. "_What?_" he asked, hearing the shocked and furious tone in his own voice before he even recognized the emotion tightening his chest. "Are you serious?" _Did she __**really**__ just question the mission? And did she just imply I stayed away because I __**wanted**__ to? That I came home because Kala was in trouble, and not because the two women I love best were about to get into a physical fight that could've ended with one of them dead?_

The fire in her eyes blazed then. "Don't I _look _serious? After dealing with this for a decade, after having to deal with one crisis after another, I needed you here and you _left_. Without an explanation, abrupt enough that I just _barely_ managed to get away with an excuse, and when there had to be at least another member of your little club that could have done it for you! Or that it happens all the damn time now! You don't want to discuss something? It's off to save the world – and don't worry, Lois will understand. And it's fine that you spoil the kids rotten; Lois took care them the first six years, why not let her finish it out now that they only have two years to go?"

Those accusations, coming right after the depressing sense of failure caused by those three deaths in Russia (and how many more would die of radiation poisoning in the next few months, he dared not ask), shocked Clark speechless. A part of him tried to believe this somehow wasn't real – he'd left behind a wife who was purring and affectionate, expecting to return home to make apologies and then ring in the New Year in style. Instead, he found himself being berated for – it seemed – everything he'd done in the past few years.

Shocked, hurt, and still grieving for the loss of life at the reactor, Clark forgot everything he knew about Lois. He should've remembered that she always got angry when she felt shame or sorrow; he should've known that she tended to hide her hurt as long as she could, lashing out when she could no longer pretend the pain didn't exist. All of that was blown out of his mind by the vicious eruption of angry words, and he responded in a much hotter temper than he ever would have imagined himself using.

"Do you seriously believe I think that way?" Clark snapped at her. "Do you _really_ think I'd use my mission as an _excuse__?_ Sometimes, Lois, there _isn't_ anyone who can step in and do my job for me. Out of the whole League and the reserve members, there are only _four_ who can handle nuclear radiation, and one of those can't be in a potentially flammable situation! That leaves me, Hal, and Diana, and we needed all three of us plus J'onn's telepathy just to rescue the people we did manage to get out – not to mention preventing nuclear fallout across most of the planet!"

She suddenly went pale, but Clark was too angry to realize that the last thing he should've mentioned when Lois was feeling neglected was that he'd spent New Year's Eve – however traumatic – with Wonder Woman. He pressed onward. "And what do you mean, spoiling the kids rotten? Half the time I'm trying to balance it out – as far as you're concerned, Jason's an angel who can do no wrong, and Kala's the devil's own child. Did you even _ask_ her what happened tonight, or did you just start slapping her?"

He couldn't ever remember seeing the look that crossed her face then, looking at him as if she'd never seen him before. Her pulse had picked up at his words, her respiration quickening as well, her eyes closing for a moment. "You bastard," she ground out, and he could see the tears starting to dampen her cheeks. "It was _your_ idea for her to go out there tonight. _I_ said she was too young; I _told_ you she'd get herself into trouble. And you told her she could anyway, just like you always do."

Clark was too shocked by that to respond, and she stepped closer to snarl in his face, "Well, guess what, hero? When Sebast couldn't go with her, did she come home like a good little girl?"

The laugh she gave then was cynical, shaking her head slightly as the barest of smiles curved her lips. "Our Kala? _No._ No, she went out and got herself all chewed up by someone who sure as hell wasn't Sebast. She's not an angel, Kal-El, any more than Jason is! You and your damn tunnel vision! I love her, God knows I've loved her from that moment she was born, but that doesn't change the fact that she's been pushing the damn envelope for years now and _you've let her__!_ Yes, I yell at Jason a lot less, but that's because he actually listens when I tell him something and doesn't go running to you when I say no; hell, I yelled at him at Christmas and didn't even say a _word_ to your daughter! Jason knows when enough's enough and usually punishes himself for what he's done wrong before we even say a word; not like Kala, who has to argue every single request made of her and then resents you for the fact that she's made to do anything more than she'd like! And the worse of it is, half the time you're not around to back me up and then, when you _are_ here, you _coddle_ her. God, even my own damn _children_ are turning against me!"

"I don't know _what_ happened tonight," Clark said angrily. "And now it's going to take twice as long to find out, because she's all out-of-sorts thanks to you jumping to conclusions! And now Jason's been upset by this, too! Lois, you love her so much, but the two of you can't go a week without scrapping. _You're_ the adult here; _you_ ought to be the one trying to keep things civil with your own daughter! She's a teenager, she's _supposed_ to be moody and temperamental and irrational – why are _you_ acting the same way?"

"Who's the adult here? _Who's the adult here_?" Something inside Kal-El was starting to wish he had never begun this. It was a rare moment when he had ever seen Lois this angry – and _never_ at him. Her voice was shaking when she stalked up to him, locking eyes with him in fine fury. "How ironic that you drop that on me. You know what, hero? Come talk to me when you can actually _tell me_ where the fuck you're going before you run out on me while I'm _begging_ you to stay! Obviously I need you here - very _mature_ of you to run off without even wondering why. But then again, you've always been able to do it before, why shouldn't you now?"

Tears still lurked in her eyes, but her chin was tilted up defiantly when she looked him in the eye and added, "Do me a favor next time you waltz out of here without a word; see what you can do about finding my husband and sending him home to me. Somehow he managed to get lost on one of his outings and I haven't seen him since. Can you do something about that, _Superman?_ Because I'm really starting to miss him."

Her meaning was perfectly clear, and hideously ironic: after all these years and all their struggles with his public and private identities, she felt he'd become a little too much Superman and not enough Clark. The joining of the two – the truth of who he was, when no one else was watching – was Kal-El, but according to Lois, the balance was off. And who would know better than his wife, his partner, his chronicler?

But still, he'd heard her use the name she'd given him matter-of-factly, playfully, seriously, and mischievously … but never cruelly. It was a twist of the knife into an already sore wound; the suspicion that he might be failing as a father and a husband, that after all his promises and all of this time, he simply couldn't be the man he wanted to be. Nor could he be the hero he was meant to be – Clark had tried to be both, and thought he was halfway succeeding, but evidently he was wrong.

"What do you want from me?!" Clark exclaimed. He was so hurt and so confused at that point that all he wanted was direction. _Just please tell me how to fix this,_ his heart pleaded. _I don't know what went wrong, I don't know how we got to this point, I'll do anything you ask of me if only you'll tell me how to make things right again._

Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest, those hazel eyes mirrored his own mixed-up feelings. There was a wall between them, invisible but substantial just the same. He couldn't tell what would happen next and air was charged with that knowledge. Lois' voice was choked with that same emotion as she stepped back a little from him and finally murmured with great dignity, "I think we both know what I want from you."

He saw that look, but where he could have once read volumes in the tiniest gesture of eyebrow, the slightest movement of her lips, he saw only broad strokes of anger and pain. "I don't have any idea what you want!" Clark said in frustration, feeling as though he was being torn apart. Everyone needed him, and he needed Lois, now more than ever, but right now all he was getting was more blame, more stress. Sick at heart by the whole mess, he snapped, "Well? If you want a divorce, Lois, I'll give you one!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Clark regretted them, but it was too late. They'd struck home, and the look on Lois' face was perfectly clear: from the wide eyes looking back at his, the blood draining from her face when she stumbled back from him, that _obviously_ hadn't been the answer she was expecting. Her breath was coming fast as she reeled, her heart rate faster. His wife looked achingly young in that moment, a look of complete disbelief as her face paled, before her facade shattered absolutely. She opened her mouth to say something, her lips trembling, and then she turned her back on him. Her breath was coming fast, her heart rate faster, when she turned suddenly on her heel and strode away in a blur of silver, as if all the demons in hell were at her ankles.

_That was the worst mistake I've made since taking her memories and leaving for Krypton._ The cold realization froze Clark to the spot just a moment too long to go after Lois; he heard the study door slam and lock. _Too late._

Clark sighed, covering his face with his hands. _How did we come to this? When everything was so bright and full of hope, when we pledged forever, we never imagined we would find ourselves __**here**__. And the worst part is, I'm not even entirely certain I'm not the one at fault._ Fighting down the urge to simply fly off to the Fortress and refuse to come back until the world started making sense again, Clark went to get his dog. At least _one_ family member loved him.

Bagel was hiding, having squeezed her black and tan and white body into the small space under one of the living room chairs. Clark talked to her softly; she'd been left in the study most of the evening to keep her from jumping on the party guests, and she must have come out just in time for their argument to begin. In the end, he had to pick up the chair and scoop her up to get her out of there. Once in his arms, she wagged her white-tipped tail and licked his face, frantic in her search for comfort.

"Easy, girl," Clark whispered, kissing the top of her head as he strode wearily into the bedroom to get ready for bed. "It's all right, Bagel." Even if no one would comfort him, he could still offer comfort, especially to a creature who couldn't understand why her family was suddenly so angry at each other.

Clark put the little dog down on the bed, where she promptly burrowed under his pillow. He was still wearing the super-suit; he couldn't remember ever arguing with Lois while he was in uniform before. Normally she got a little tongue-tied around the suit, but tonight she'd been simply furious.

He hid the suit in the secret compartment at the back of their closet and picked up the clothes he'd haphazardly tossed onto the bed earlier. His cell phone fell out of his jacket pocket, the message light blinking. Clark sighed and flipped it open to see a text from Richard. _Let us know when you and Kala get home. We worry about you, big guy. Is everything okay?_

"Nothing's okay," Clark muttered, but he used his hearing to check on the twins anyway. Jason and Kala were both crying, though they were in separate rooms; Clark felt guilt pierce him at the realization that they had to have heard his entire argument with Lois, including that awful word _divorce_. Lois was also crying, and Clark felt tears threatening as well; he had never managed to ruin an evening quite as completely as he'd wrecked this one.

But at least they were all safe. He replied to Richard's text with a short, _Everyone's home and okay._ For a given value of 'okay', at least, one that allowed for psychological trauma.

The reply came instantly. _Good news. We'll talk tomorrow?_

Only then did Clark remember Lana hinting at needing to talk to him and Lois, and he snorted in bitter amusement. If anyone could see what was going on in the Lane-Kent marriage, it was Lana, and she'd been a day too late with her intervention. All he sent to Richard, however, was, _Sure. Good night._

He put away his clothes and his phone, lying down in the too-empty bed. Bagel crawled over to snuggle against his side, giving him pathetic looks and occasionally licking his hand. "It'll be all right," he murmured softly, patting her side. "Somehow I'll make it all right. Tomorrow…"

…

Lois woke up to her face pressed into cushions and the worst headache she'd had in quite some time. She started to stretch, then froze, whimpering. She had a kink in her neck, her back was stiff, one arm was asleep, and her legs felt cramped, not to mention that her back was screaming blue murder. And to top it all off, a shaft of morning sunlight struck her directly in the eyes when she rolled over. All of that was directly attributable to the fact that she'd spent the night on the couch in the study.

Trying to find the will to move any further, she heard a scratching noise at the door. She groaned in misery, wanting nothing more than to just disappear back into the forgiving oblivion of sleep. Facing what happened last night was a prospect that turned her stomach, and the longer she could put that off, the better. But Bagel had other ideas; the whining from the doorway intensifying as if she had heard that thought. Unable to handle the pitiful sounds, Lois rose with a heavy sigh. Trying not to fall over the pile of last night's finery on the floor next to the couch, the silver dress and lingerie in a forlorn heap where she had shed them in the wee hours of the morning, she managed to get across to the door without falling over. She slowly opened it a crack to see Bagel standing there, wagging her tail hopefully. The mournful look on the beagle's face, sadder than usual, made the reporter bite her lip at a swell of guilt. Everything seemed to point to the disaster that was yesterday.

"Poor Brat. I know, I know. I didn't like it, either," Lois sighed as she knelt down to pet her and was promptly covered in kisses. "C'mon, girl. I'll let you out while I take a shower." Bagel trotted down the stairs a little stiffly herself, following Lois as she stood and headed to the French doors. The rest of the apartment was quiet, a good sign after the night just passed. She wasn't sure if she could face anyone this morning. Kal-El was probably out on rounds, so Lois took advantage of his absence to hurry into the shower, hating the dry, foul taste in her mouth and the feel of her makeup smeared around her eyes. One glance in the mirror as she entered the bedroom and shed the slip she had slept in told her all she needed to know. "Great, I look about as lousy as I feel," she growled in an unsteady voice, forcing herself into the shower.

The memories of the previous night were crystal clear and the sound of rushing water was the only sound in the shower. In spite of her determination not to do so, the reality of the world she had woken up to tore at her as she washed her hair. How much harder could God laugh at her? And could things have gone any more wrong? From the moment she'd gone into work yesterday, it was a chain-reaction of huge misunderstandings and just plain bad damn luck. It had just all gotten out of control at an alarming rate and the worst had happened just after the New Year had begun. Kala or Kal-El? Which had been the worst of it? There wasn't even an absolute answer, just a question of degrees.

Looking back on it several hours later, it just sickened her. It wasn't that both confrontations hadn't been necessary; it was just the way it had all come down that made things as painful as they were. Kala had had the tongue-lashing coming and the girl had known it from the moment she came in the door; missing curfew by as late as she had been was an instant 'scolding and restriction' for both twins. The few times that Kala had been grounded since she and Jason had been allowed to stay out at night, she had played it smart and been appropriately meek. Easier to get a lesser sentence than to argue. But the way Kala had flown into a defiant rage, Lois knew her own daughter well enough to know more than the usual guilt lay behind it. There'd been shame there, although one other thing had made her daughter that nasty, and Lois hadn't caught it at the time: fear.

Part of her own reaction to the tantrum had been the huge and constant upsets of the day, making Lois irrational as well, although there was no way Kala could have know what the emotional weather had been while she was gone. She couldn't have known her mother's own guilt. Everything at the office, then Kal-El's unexplained disappearance, had all combined to put Lois' temper on edge, which was then blind-sided by this one final disappointment. Not that she hadn't been justified to be angry with the girl for blowing off her curfew, but the snappy attitude had been like a red flag. The volcano had been boiling before Kala had come in the door, but she had kept it under control … until she'd seen the marks.

Growling under her breath, she leaned her face into the steamy spray. It seemed that from the day Kala had turned fifteen, her mother had become the enemy. All of her life, her little girl had been so proud of the similarities between their looks, some of their traits, so happy to be recognized as Lois Lane's daughter. Overnight, a nearly-invisible wall had gone up between them with Lois not understanding _why_, a wall that the reporter was unconsciously slamming into over and over again. In the last two years, Kala had tried to find every way she possibly could to show that she was nothing like her mom, rebelling against everything Lois said or did – and paradoxically, acting just like Lois had when she was that age. And when you brought that up now, woe to both you and her mother. _So I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. With no way to get through to her. _ _And every time I try, it's like trying to catch jagged glass and makes it pretty clear that I'm still not great at the 'Mom' thing._

Closing her eyes with a deep sigh, she turned her back on the spray to wash the shampoo out. Usually, the sandalwood and rose scent would make her smile, but something that simple just wasn't enough. Not today. The hardest part for the reporter was watching Kala make many of the same mistakes she'd made, and she didn't want her daughter to suffer the same heartbreaks if there was a way to stop it. But none of her efforts seemed to reach the girl, sending her running to her father, and Kala just became more and more determined to resist her guidance. Whether Kala realized it or not, it hurt to be shoved aside for Kal-El, 'who understands me', when she had been the one there for Kala since she was born. And in confrontations like last night, Kala showed how disastrously alike she and her mother really were. Feeling guilty and wounded, they'd both lashed out viciously at each other, protecting their battered feelings with the best defense either of them knew: a swift offense.

Even now, she felt regretful tears burning her eyes. She'd never raised a hand to either of her children, although Kala's smart mouth had more than once brought about an idle thought of it. There were no excuses for what she had done. She could blame it on the fact that her own daughter had compared her to Sam Lane, the most illogical and demanding man she had ever met. Did Kala even know how deeply that cut? She'd tried her hardest to do right by her children, to make sure they knew that she loved them regardless of their little weaknesses and shortcomings. Let them know that they could grow up to be whatever they wanted and she'd always love them no matter what. Near as she could see, she had nothing to do with her father's teachings. And still… still she had managed to fail with them. Struggling with the reality of last night's actions, she leaned her head against the cold tile of the shower stall and hid her tears in the water sluicing over her cheeks.

And then, as always, her husband had butted in at the very last second and made a dicey situation worse, once again reminding everyone that Lois was the fragile, defenseless human in the midst of the mighty Kryptonian family. And that hurt more than anything else he could have said about her, to be considered the breakable one amongst them. Not only was it personally hurtful her, Kal-El had no idea, on a parental level, how much that undermined her authority. A fresh wave of bitterness washed over her then, remembering the incident. Freshly hurt, Lois had been unable to stop herself when she lashed out again – at _him_. She couldn't believe some of the things she'd said to her husband, things that had been building up in the back of her mind and heart for a long time. Things she had been too scared to say out loud, for fear of the answers she would get. Not that they weren't _true_, but she had to admit now that she'd phrased them for maximum emotional suffering. To _make_ him acknowledge that there were problems. Make him _see her_.

And that was utterly beside the point considering the things he'd said back to her, ending with the phrase that had rocked her to the core. Of all of the things she had expected to come out of his mouth, that had been the last. She forced the memory away, unable to handle it. How had everything gotten so bad? And was there any way to fix it now? That's what she had to focus on now. With all of the times Fate had managed to shove them back together, had their luck finally run out? The thought made her ill feelings all the worse. Was their story, having been to such great heights, going to finally end in burning wreckage? _**No.**__ No, it's __**not**__ going to end like this. I have to talk to him. There has to be a way that we can find our way back to each other. I won't let it end like this._

This line of thinking was too much for her. Getting herself under control, she managed to finish her shower and dress before the kids woke up and before Clark got home. Although the shambles of her home life was put to the back of her mind, she made the decision that something would have to be done. Even if she had to be the one to do it. In the meantime, Lois decided to do the wise thing, grab her briefcase, and get out of the house without speaking to any of them. It would be for the best if it started this evening, though; she was still unsettled, and there was work to be done at the _Planet_. Maybe the four of them could their heads together if they had the day to consider everything that had happened. The work at home could start when everyone was present and accounted for. They'd work things out, once and for all.

* * *

_**There's some things we don't talk about,  
Rather do without,  
And just hold the smile.  
Falling in and out of love,  
ashamed and proud of,  
Together all the while.**_

_**You can never say never.  
Why we dont know when,  
Time and time again,  
Younger now than we were before...**_

~The Fray, _Never Say Never_

_

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	19. Hanging by a Moment

**All right, all. After a three-week run at the weekly schedule, Anissa and I are returning to our standard bi-weekly publishing setup. Mostly because of the hugeness of the rest of the story plans. BIG things coming in the very near future and we want to make sure we have optimum time in which to lay on the quality. Both of us hope you've enjoyed everything thus far and also hope that you're ready not that the story has REALLY started. Hold on tight. ;)**

* * *

Jason woke up with a stuffy nose and sore eyes from crying himself to sleep. He pushed himself through the normal morning routine even though what he _really_ wanted to do was pull the blankets over his head and fall back asleep. But Gazeera had to be fed, and the last thing Jason wanted to do today was disappoint his parents.

Despite his trying, Kala had never deigned to talk to him last night. He'd heard her crying, but she wouldn't even open the door, so he'd finally slunk across the hall and curled up in his bed when Mom and Dad started fighting. Sleep had taken far too long to arrive, as Jason's stomach and emotions were tied up in knots.

It wasn't as if he didn't know that his parents were having problems even when they tried to hide it from the kids, but they'd argued before and always made up in the end. This was a whole new level of 'argue', though. Never in his life had Jason heard such antagonism in both their voices, never imagined either one could think to mention the 'D' word. And to have Dad say it … it just seemed as if the world were turning inside-out. He was crazy in love with Mom, had been since he and Kala had first seen them together, so obviously starry-eyed over her even now that all Jason's friends snickered over it. Dad had to be utterly at the end of his rope to even _consider_…

Heading into the kitchen with a regretful glance at Kala's door across the hall from his, Jason tried to push aside the sick feeling he felt in his stomach. Mom did have a point, though. Dad was getting awfully hard to find sometimes; it seemed like he spent more time with the JLA than ever. And Kala was definitely Daddy's girl. She always had been, since they had both been little, and it was hard not to see how much delight Dad took in her antics. But Jason didn't think that Dad spoiled her _too_ much. Well, _maybe_ a little much, but not as bad as Mom had implied. Kala was a pain in the neck, and she couldn't get along with Mom these days for more than a week if you offered her a million dollars to do it, but she was his _sister_. His _twin_ sister. She wasn't _evil_. Just snotty and annoying.

And Mom was his mom. She'd always been there to tell him to stop pushing himself so hard, to tell him just what he needed to hear to not feel like a coward or a failure when things didn't go right. Mom, who seemed to know what he was thinking even when he hadn't even told Kal. Who always had the solution to problems he didn't even know he had. And, that said, how was a guy supposed to stay sane when his mother and his twin were fighting over totally stupid stuff? Nobody had even let Kala say where she'd been last night, or who was with her, or why her neck looked like she'd been attacked by really clumsy vampires. Sure, she'd done something stupid, but it shouldn't have triggered World War Three in the living room.

Jason realized he was just giving himself a headache. He was trying to put together a 5,000 piece puzzle with a thousand pieces missing. Sighing, he tried to force himself back into some semblance of normalcy. Dad was out doing his morning rounds, just like always, and Mom was…

He couldn't help the aggravated groan when he checked for her. Mom wasn't in the house. He couldn't hear her heartbeat; his own hearing only had a range of a few blocks in the middle of the noisy city, though, so she could be just about anywhere. This wasn't going to make the morning any easier. Jason was just starting to get worried when he heard his father returning. "Dad?" he called out. "Do you know where Mom is?"

He knew he didn't imagine the tiny wince his father made as he came in the French doors. Yep, this wasn't going to be a good morning at all. "At work," Clark replied, never slowing pace on his way to the bedroom to change out of the uniform. "Wake your sister."

Jason's eyebrows when up at that. The sober expression and tone were not exactly common to Dad at all; that was far more abrupt than the boy could ever remember his father being. Then again, considering last night, could he really blame him? He was going to tread a fine line here if he said anything; it really wasn't his place to question what happened between his parents, but he had to try. "Dad, are you okay?" he finally asked, hesitantly.

At that, Clark stopped, and turned to look at his son. It was then that Jason saw the weariness in his expression, something even more alien to Dad, and it chilled him. If nothing else made him want to wish this all away, this would. The only other time he'd seen Dad this defeated had been years ago on an island made of kryptonite. "I'm all right," Clark said quietly, obviously sensing his anxiety. "Everything's going to be okay, Jason. Don't worry. Just wake Kala up. I need to talk to her before I go to work."

He'd asked; maybe that could be enough for the moment. He'd have to try with Mom later. There had to be a way to fix things and if anyone could do that, it was his father. Giving the older man a small smile, he nodded with a deeper understanding. "Sure, Dad," Jason replied, hurrying to do as he'd been asked. Just before he could knock on Kala's door, though, it opened with a suddenness that made the boy startle back.

Kala stood there wearing a black turtleneck and black jeans; minimalist attire for her. She hadn't bothered with makeup, either, and in spite of that she looked unusually pale. The dark circles beneath her eyes made Jason want to hug her and promise that everything would work out somehow. The utter dejection that spoke in her every movement spoke louder than words ever could.

In spite of the clear misery she felt, Kala didn't give him even half a chance. "I heard him," she said flatly, and brushed past him to go into the living room and await Dad's judgment like a prisoner to the gallows.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. _And they say what you do for New Year's Day, you do all year. Please, God, don't let that be true this year._ _ I'm not sure I can handle it. _Squaring his shoulders, Jason followed her up the hall, noticing that no one had started coffee and deciding to do it himself. Better to be there and watch without being noticed. As he was starting the coffeemaker, Clark came back out of the bedroom and spoke to Kala in a level, dispassionate voice.

"You're grounded until further notice," he started immediately, and Kala didn't even offer a groan of protest. "No television, no internet, and no leaving the house. I'll need your cell phone, too; I don't want you to make any calls. Read, do any homework you have over break. We'll discuss this further when your mother and I get home from work tonight, including how long you'll be on restriction. You'll have a chance to tell your side of the story as well."

Again Jason expected a storm of temper to be unleashed and was amazed to see that it wasn't forthcoming. On the contrary, his sister wasn't even looking up at her father, the shame Jason knew she had to feel keeping her from meeting his eyes. The only way you knew she had heard was the way that her shoulders slumped. "Yes, sir," Kala replied meekly, her voice trembling.

There was a painfully long pause, in which Jason pretended to be fascinated with the coffee beginning to drip, and then he heard his father say softly, "I love you, sweetheart. Never doubt that. But this had to be done."

Kala said nothing, her face still hidden in her long fall of hair, and after a moment Clark came into the kitchen with a pained expression, his mouth thinned and his brow furrowed. "Thanks for making the coffee, Jason," he said, patting his son's shoulder.

Jason had made plans for the day, long before all of this had occurred, although he was starting to wonder if it was the best thing to do in light of the situation. On one hand, family took priority over all else, but with the way things had been with Giselle lately, he really didn't want to face yet another cancellation of their plans. Who knew if his girlfriend would understand? "Umm, Dad, I'm supposed to meet Giselle for lunch," Jason said in a tentative tone, already feeling like a heel. "I'll cancel if you need me to…"

"No," Clark replied quickly, looking at him. "Kala knows what I expect of her, and she doesn't need a warden to behave. I think we all know this, right?" The small smile he gave Jason let him know that Clark knew how much he hated being a tattletale. "You go and see Giselle; we should be home a little early today."

"Thanks, Dad. Have a good day at work, okay? Or try?" Then, knowing how difficult things were for him, Jason caught his father's shoulder and hugged him. "Mom'll cool down. You know she will." When they pulled back, Clark could only give his son a somber smile that made Jason frown in worry. "Dad, she will. There's nothing you guys can't work out. Seriously."

The discussion could go no further; Clark was running late as it was. Calling out final goodbyes, Jason was left alone in the apartment and the heavy ghosts of the previous night. He needed to talk to Kala, to understand what had happened in his twin's own words before anyone else could hear and misunderstand, but she'd already retreated to her room and locked the door again. _Well, that puts the kibosh on that. If she's still that wrecked, she wouldn't talk to me, anyway. I'll be so glad when this is over and done with. I don't even care what happened now. Ijust want the Kent Uncivil War over with._

Sighing in frustration, Jason went to _his_ room, wondering how he'd fill the hours until his lunch date.

…

By afternoon that day, most things had practically returned to normal in the Velez house. So much so that Sebast had been relieved of watching his little brother and made a trip out to Fuel, a trip that he had hoped would involve Kala, but she wasn't answering her phone this morning. Considering the disappointment that had come of last night for her, it wasn't as if he could blame her. He'd have to call later and sweet-talk her out of her funk. Thank God it was rarely difficult.

As it was, he had found Scott had been wandering the racks in _Track Record_, the music shop in Fuel when he had come in. Browsing the CD selections, Sebast had updated him on what had happened with his grandmother last night. "So we're all freaked out that _Abuelita _had a stroke or something. And it turns out she just slipped on the kitchen floor."

"That's a relief. Bet that scared the hell out of the whole family until you guys found that out."

"Yeah, right. Exactly. We were some serious basket cases for a while. But then, here's the killer," Sebast continued, eyeing an almost-new copy of an old Siouxsie and the Banshees CD. "Guess why the floor was wet? She decided to mop it, at nine in the evening! You're not supposed to start the New Year with a dirty floor, you know, and the kitchen is the most important room of the house. So she was gonna be nice and mop the floor for everyone. And then right after she put away the mop, she stepped on the wet floor, fell, and broke her hip. Figures, right?"

Scott winced at that. "God, that's sucks. She's gonna be okay, though? Oh hey, they've got Chainsuck!"

"Yeah, she's stuck on bed rest and hating it, but she'll live, thank God." Sebast replied with a sigh. "The worst part is that I had to blow Kala off on coming here last night. Remember how she signed up for that 'sing before the Flying Foxes' gig' open-mike thing that she was so excited about? She couldn't come because I had to stay home with Michael. She's got to be totally irate with me right now; her phone's going straight to voicemail."

When he said that, the blond boy looked at him like he was crazy. "What are you talking about? When I first got in, all Brandon could talk about was how much my friend surprised him with how great her performance was and that it sucked that almost no one was here for it. He said that the 'Foxes even applauded, dude. When he said that there had been one guy that was here with her, I thought it had to be you. If it wasn't you or me, who was it?"

Now it was Sebast's turn to look shocked. Kala had never mentioned going with anyone else instead. So what the hell…? "Wait, what? No. She was going home; her mom and dad were only cool with it if I went! And Jason had plans; even then, she didn't want any of the family to hear her yet. So who was this guy?"

"Sebast?" So wound up with concern over what exactly had happened here the night before, both boys turned around slowly at the sound of that voice, completely perplexed. Much to their surprise, it was Jason's girl who stood behind them, clutching her purse and looking ill at ease. This was not something either boy had expected and the panic of the moment before was lost in the curiosity of Giselle Davenport's sudden appearance. "Can I talk to you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Sebast saw Scott look at her appraisingly, and he elbowed the blond boy. "Scott, you know _Jason's girlfriend_, Giselle, right?" He tried to indicate with subtle eyebrow gestures that this was the girl they all knew was evil incarnate. The biggest question was, what was she doing here?

The other boy, of course, missed the gesture completely. "Damn, Jason's lucky. How are you doin', Giselle?" Scott said, grinning, and Sebast elbowed him again.

"Knock it off, Spaz. Hitting on someone else's girl, especially one that belongs to your friend's twin? Lame, Scott, totally beneath you," he shot back as he glared a hole in the other boy. "Get some manners, boy. You know that Kala'd whip your ass for trying to mess with her brother's sweetheart. _And_ never go to prom with you."

"Hey!" The fact that Scott was playing to their audience clear, even as Giselle looked at them with an expression of skepticism. "Whatever happened to bros first?"

_Scott, you idiot, no wonder you can't get a girlfriend, bringing up something like that in front of a girl._ _I don't even __**like**__ Giselle and I'm embarrassed for him. Oh, well, might as well call him on it. He'll know better next time._ "What, you mean 'bros before hos'?" Sebast asked matter-of-factly, his look unfriendly. "Scott, honey, _Kala_ is my bro, and you're just the ho." With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he guided Giselle away from the still-clueless laughing blond. "Well, this is unexpected. What do you need to talk to me about?" he asked her, not quite knowing what to expect.

It was obvious that Giselle was uncomfortable being here; she was aware of just who she was speaking to and what that person thought of her. Sebast supposed the defensive way he was looking at her didn't help. "It's about Kala," the black-haired girl began, and bit her lip.

That earned her a narrow-eyed look. _Kala's phone's off all morning and now Giselle's here wanting to talk about her. What the hell is going on?_ "What about her?" Sebast said, more warily.

"Have you heard from her since last night?"

"No," Sebast replied, suddenly feeling cold in the pit of his stomach. "Why?"

Giselle looked down and sighed, then glanced back up at him, her green eyes fraught with worry. "We don't get along, but … she's Jason's sister, and I love him. And I'm worried about her. She hadn't come home when I left, and Jason called me this morning…"

…

_Divorce._ Clark still couldn't believe that word had come out of _his_ mouth, but those two simple syllables were casting a pall over every moment since. It was the very _last_ thing he wanted – the idea of losing Lois was a terrible, visceral pain, growing worse by the hour instead of better. She was avoiding him at work, coldly formal when they had to speak, and Clark retreated into his own department.

He hadn't meant to suggest it; Clark had been casting about for what Lois wanted him to say, and that had been the most improbable idea he could imagine – the worst-case scenario. Evidently, it wasn't what Lois wanted to hear, nor was it as improbable as he'd thought.

His stomach churned, and Clark snuck a swig from the bottle in his desk. Most drugs had little effect on his Kryptonian metabolism, but something about the chalky taste of the Mylanta soothed his occasional stomachaches. He suspected it wouldn't help much, this time.

Lois stormed through City, scattering frightened reporters in her wake, and Clark watched her with bittersweet yearning. _All I ever wanted was to be with her forever,_ he thought. _How did this go so wrong?_

Only one thing was certain: somehow, no matter what it took, he had to put things right again.

…

Kala lay curled up on top of her covers, not even bothering to play any music. Boredom pressed down on her, but that was all right; she _ought_ to be bored and miserable. The marks on her neck were blazing reminders of her very human weakness, and she despised herself for that, _wanting_ to feel terrible.

That didn't mean she'd deserved last night's bitchy blowout from Mom. Just the thought made her sick to her stomach, and Kala closed her eyes, huddling into a tight ball of misery. It was as she'd begun to suspect: Mom hated her. Whether it was because Kala's youth and beauty reminded Mom that she wasn't getting any younger, or just that Lois Lane couldn't stand another strong woman in the house, didn't matter. Mom _hated_ her. Kala could still feel her cheek stinging from that slap, the first time Lois had ever raised a hand to either child in anger.

And Dad … Kala choked back a sob. He'd never looked at her with such disappointment as he had last night, never spoken to her as coldly as he had this morning. She'd finally ruined his image of her as the perfect little girl.

Tonight wouldn't be any easier. Both parents would want to talk to her, and no matter what she said, they were going to hit the roof when they found out about Nick. She hadn't set out last night intending to end the night in Nick's car, with his mouth on her neck, but she'd wound up there anyway. And Kala had the sinking feeling that no matter how she tried to explain, her parents were going to be furious.

Jason knocked at her door, and Kala groaned. "Go _away_," she called. Last night he'd tried to talk to her, tried to tell her that Mom and Dad screaming at each other was _her_ fault, and she'd thrown her boots at the door hard enough to scuff the paint. The last thing she wanted to hear right now was more of the same.

"Kal, come on," her brother said wearily. "Open the door. Please."

He was a persistent son of a gun, Kala knew from long experience, so she got up and went to the door, flinging it open. "What do you want, Lizard-Breath?" she said, making her displeasure obvious.

Jason smiled and held out his phone. Kala stared at it in surprise before looking up at him. Drawing back slightly, one raven brow arched up as she nailed him with her dubious gaze. "Dad told me not to make calls," she stated flatly.

"You didn't dial. I did. Talk to Sebast."

Kala took the phone and sighed, looking up at her brother. Did he even have a clue how much this meant to her? Especially since he'd get fried for it, too, if either parent found out. She couldn't help a tiny grateful smile. "Thanks, Jase."

"I love you, Kal," he said, squeezing her hand. That said, her brother disappeared back into his room without another word to give her privacy.

Shaking her head in disbelief, the dark-haired girl took a deep breath and let it out in a rush as she went into her room and closed the door before she brought the phone to her ear. Although she didn't feel it, she forced herself to sound normal. "Hey, good-looking. Everything better on the home front? How's your grandmother?"

For all her effort to seem normal over the phone line, her best friend's voice was sounding more guarded than usual. "Hey, beautiful. She's doing fine; broke a hip, but she'll be up and around shortly. How're you?"

"Grounded," she answered with a little laugh and a heavy sigh. "Mom thinks I'm out to destroy her life and sanity. Dad can't stand the sight of me. We're gonna have a family discussion tonight, I guess, and decide my fate."

"What happened?" he asked gently.

Kala took another deep breath, trying to decide what to tell him. _God, he's going to be mad at me for being a flake, too. Well, for a minute, anyway._ "I did something awful and went to Fuel by myself." Knowing that she was going to get scolded at least a little bit, she pushed herself forward and immediately burst into explanation before he could interrupt her. "You can be mad at me later for going without you, okay? I promise, but I did really well. You would have been so proud. I got three songs, and I totally rocked them. Everybody loved it. And then, I ran into this guy I knew there – he took me out to dinner."

There was a pause, the one that Kala had been dreading. That usually meant that Sebast was trying to think of a way to say what came next without fussing at her. "Okay. Which guy, Kala?"

"No one you know." _He's going to kill me. I never even told him about Nick. This is __**so**__ not going the way I wanted it to. Geez, Sebast, just be happy for me and don't question it, okay? Just this once?_ "Anyway, he was supposed to take me home after dinner, and he stopped in this park instead, and…" Kala trailed off, her cheeks burning. "We wound up necking," she finished in a small voice.

She heard Sebast sigh gently. "Oh, Kala. Let me guess – you conquered the club with your voice, and you felt like you could conquer the rest of the world, too?"

"Something like that." Kala paused then, feeling more and more foolish as she spoke, but needing to explain herself. It hadn't been the way he was making it sound. "He was a really good kisser, and I forgot all about curfew. When the fireworks went off, I panicked and ran to the subway instead of making him drive me home. Either way, I would've been late."

There was a sigh on the other end of the receiver then, one that spoke volumes. And the way he was keeping his voice calm made Kala bite her lip. "Poor thing. So your parents were worried about you being late, and they chewed you out?"

Kala bit her lip, wishing she could explain to him how horrible her return home had been. Exhausted by the use of her superpowers, and then running into her mother, with her father only returning at the worst possible moment. Getting scolded not just by her beloved father, but by _Superman_ in full uniform, using his public-address voice. And worst of all, the realization that if Daddy _hadn't_ stopped her, Kala might've seriously injured her mother.

Her breath hitched at the memory, but she forced her voice into a semblance of calm. "Pretty much," she said. "I think they're mostly pissed because, well… He left a bunch of hickies on my neck."

"Was it just necking?" Sebast's voice was very soft then.

Her entire face flamed at that, Sebast's implication all too clear. _Oh, God, not __**you**__, too! I'm not surprised that the rest would think that, but __**you**__?_ "Of course," Kala said coldly, her lip curling up in a sneer. "Look, this guy – I barely know him. He doesn't go to our school. He's just someone I see around town sometimes. Come on, Sebast!"

"Sounds like he's a little more than that," Sebast's voice came back with deliberate lightness. "I mean, you did let him chew all over your neck. Kala, you go to school with at least fifteen self-professed vampires who'd leap at that chance."

She laughed a little, but her stomach was uneasy. "Yeah, well, I shouldn't have let him kiss me, okay? Once the kissing started, I kinda… He's a really good kisser, Sebast. I wasn't paying as much attention as I should've been."

"Hmmm." Sebast sounded oddly noncommittal, like he was trying to figure out what to say to her – Kala couldn't remember him ever sounding so indecisive.

"What?" she asked, trying to keep her irritation out of her tone. "C'mon, Sebast, don't tell me you joined the morality police all of a sudden. It's just a little necking, not the end of the world."

"Kala, _chulin, _I'm your best friend ever, right?"

"Of course," she replied warily, frowning with the fact that he would bring that up at a moment like this. Was he about to give her some well-meaning advice about relationships? Would Sebast try to tell her she needed to slow down? If so, she'd have to direct him to the online dictionary page for _hypocrite_. If he thought she didn't know about that backstage thing with the supposedly-straight male lead of _Once on this Island_…

It was worse than that. "You know you can tell me anything," Sebast said soothingly. "Hell, you know half the crazy shit I've done – and I'm not just talking about David, sweetheart. Not like I'd ever judge you."

Kala's jaw dropped, and for a moment she felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Silence hung in the air while she tried to remember how to string words together, and then she managed to say in a monotone, "You think I slept with him."

"No, Kala," Sebast said hurriedly, and she heard the chagrin in his voice. "I know you better than that."

She couldn't keep the snarl out of her voice. "Then why would you _say_ that?"

"_Mamita_…"

"Knock it off," Kala snapped. "The hot accent is _not_ helping you right now, seriously. You thought I up and slept with some guy, and you were _totally_ fishing for information. Sebast, I can't believe you!"

Hurriedly, she heard him back-pedaling, realizing that he had stepped wrong. "It's not like that! Listen, I'd heard something about last night, but I should've considered the source."

"Who told you?" Kala demanded. It only took seconds for the obvious to occur to her and that made the betrayal all the worse. To think that she had trusted him! "_Jason_. That … that coward! I can't believe he'd make _you_ do his snooping! Or that you'd agree to it! Sebast, this is…"

"It wasn't Jason!" Sebast cut her off. He groaned, and then said miserably. "It was Giselle."

"Giselle," Kala whispered back. So Jason had told Pretty Princess Barbie all about his sister's wild night? And if Giselle had talked to Sebast, who else had she told? The answer was simple: everyone she could reach. "Oh, _God_," Kala moaned. She'd been counting on the marks fading before vacation ended, but now _everyone_ would know about Nick. And since that poisonous little bitch was the one telling the tale, everyone would think Kala had gone all the way with him. Just wait 'til they find out he's a college boy…

"_Mi amor,_" Sebast murmured. "I'm sorry – I should've known. She fed me a _great_ line of bullshit about being worried for you. That little viper should've been in theater, not writing. I actually thought she cared about you…"

Kala was no longer listening. "You believed my brother's rebound before you ever spoke to me," she spat. "Some 'best friend ever', Sebast." With that, she slapped the phone shut and dropped onto her bed, fighting the urge to scream and kick like a six-year-old.

Jason and Sebast had _both_ betrayed her … right when Jason seemed to be doing something _nice_ for once. Sick fury rose in Kala's heart, not sure whether to throw things or cry or just have a complete nervous breakdown. _Who can I trust?_ she thought miserably. Mom and Dad already had their own opinions about last night; family discussion, hell, it was gonna be family chew-Kala's-ass time. Her best friend thought she was a slut, her brother went and told his gossipy girlfriend all about last night. So who in the world could she trust?

She couldn't go to Richard and Lana. Though Richard was much more blasé about teenage love lives than her father, even he might have something to say about her getting gnawed on by a college guy. And Lana … she was one of the most unflappable people Kala had ever known, she practically had to be to stay friends with Lois, but no way would she be cool with _this_. She probably hadn't heard yet … unless Dad meant to make it a _full_ family conference, bring Richard and Lana over to join in the mass humiliation.

Kala groaned and pressed her palms against her forehead. "I can't do this," she whispered. Sighing, she picked up the phone and dialed the one number where someone might help her out.

And as if this day wasn't already _perfect_, she got voicemail. Sighing in irritation, Kala left her message. She closed the phone and got up to take it back to Jason, then thought better of it. They had the same model phone – his was green, hers was black – and it was easy to find the call history and delete the number she'd just called. Kala took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and schooled her features into a slightly hopeful mask. She couldn't let Jason catch a hint of her current state of mind, or her plans…

…

Perry White watched Lois sitting at her desk. He was really amazed that Kent hadn't forced her to take the day off; she carried all the usual Lane signs of hellacious night. Skillful makeup failed to hide the shadows beneath her eyes, and the tension in her shoulders was visible from across the office. She hadn't spoken to her own husband when she got in, and for once, Clark hadn't even tried to talk to her, either. That, in itself, was like a sign of the apocalypse.

But the other signs of her mental state were twice as obvious. Lois slammed the story she was reading down on her desk, snatching it up again to storm out into the bullpen. Bill Freizon saw her coming and looked terrified, glancing around for an excuse to leave. It was too late, however; Mad Dog Lane bore down on him and started snarling, her gestures full of fire.

After a few minutes of Bill looking like a cat in a downpour, Perry decided to intervene. He strolled across the bullpen until he got to Freizon's desk, realizing as he got closer that Lois was actually chewing the poor man out over _punctuation_.

He couldn't resist a snort of laughter. Whatever was eating her this morning was more than she could easily tolerate, it looked like. Well, at least she wasn't keeping it bottled up this time. "C'mon, Lane," Perry bellowed affectionately. "Enough fire and brimstone."

"For the love of…" Still growling, Lois swung around to glare those hazel eyes at Perry. "Don't even start, old man. Bill's worked here for thirty years, he was a senior reporter when I was in the frikkin' mail room, he _lives_ by words, and he can't remember when not to put an apostrophe in 'its'?! What the hell kind of paper are we running here?" Bill looked thoroughly horrified at this diatribe, eyeing Perry with a pleading look the older man hadn't seen in years.

Perry couldn't help himself. "This from the woman who _wears_ one and still can't spell 'brassiere'. In my office."

Lois' laser-eyed stare narrowed on him, but his assistant stalked after him without a further word. Perry could feel her seething gaze on his back, heard how heavily her footsteps were coming down, and grinned to himself. He sat down behind his desk, fiddled with a few papers, and let Lois' wrath come to a frothing head before acknowledging her again. Even then, he just glanced up at her and looked at the chair across from him.

With an extremely disgruntled growl, Lois dropped into it, the chair giving out a protesting squeak, and crossed her arms to continue her glaring. Perry let her simmer another moment before looking up. "Lois. When I told you to be more proactive in the editorial aspect of your job, I didn't mean for you to scare the bejeesus out of your employees." Thinking of something Bill and Gil used to like to tease Lois with back in the day – before she was management – he added, "What's got your thong in a twist?"

Lois took a long breath, sounding a little like a kettle about to boil as she inhaled. "Very funny, _Chief_," she ground out.

"So talk to me," he retorted. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Perry didn't miss the way her hand went to the chain around her neck, fingers winding around that topaz locket with her thumb worrying the smooth backing. The newest of her nervous fidgets was the most obvious and the most telling of her mental state, though he doubted she realized it. "How many _years_ do I have to explain it all?" she shot back.

In all of his years with Lois, he knew all too well that the best way to get the truth out of her was to unbalance her. It was only with the slightest regret that he struck at the easiest target. "Not so many as you used to," Perry said deftly, his voice perfectly calm. "I'm not getting any younger, Lois. And no matter how well I follow my cardiologist's instructions…"

And as unstable as that topic made her, for he had known it all along, he saw Lois blanch at that before she could guard herself. Lois cut him off. "Don't start. I mean, Perry. You're healthy as a horse, and Loueen has a vested interest in keeping you that way."

Perry did something then that he hadn't done since she was sixteen and anxious as hell at her first job. He leaned across the table and took her hand, her delicate fingers in his sure grip. Only it wasn't quite as sure as it had once been; few people would've noticed the difference, but Lois did, marking the stiffness in the joints, and her eyes widened. "Don't be afraid," Perry said, his voice gentle. "Part of life is losing the people you love, Lois. Elinore knew that."

"Perry, stop it." Her voice was choked, a plea to bury this topic again.

"You're trying so damn hard to protect me," Perry said relentlessly, and saw her eyes widen with guilty surprise. He chuckled. "Kid, I _know_ you. I know how your mind works. You're trying to keep me in this office as long as you can by not stepping up to your job. And it's _your_ job, Lois. I've been grooming you for it since you walked in here, a pretty little sixteen year old with the balls to ask _me_ for a job.

"I never gave you any handouts; I was tougher on you than anyone else. By the time you hit the City beat you were a fireball, unstoppable. I threw you into the lion's den with these backstabbing bastards in the old boys' club, and you came out on top. Hell, they're all terrified of you now, have been ever since you made star reporter.

"And you made that on your own – you went out and got your hands dirty, rolled in the worst this city had to offer, anything to get the story. But you never lost your integrity. You can't be bribed, you can't be swayed, you can't be scared off a story." Perry leaned back to look at her.

"You _are_ the _Planet_, Lois," he said firmly. "As long as you're in this office, my paper will stand for the same things it's always stood for."

Lois blinked, her eyes shining, and Perry grinned wolfishly. "That doesn't mean I have any plans of retiring soon – I'm not _giving_ you this desk, Lane, you'll have to pry it out of my cold dead hands. But I'll damn sure know when they cart me out of here on a covered stretcher that the paper will be taken care of _right_."

"Do you _have_ to see through me so well, you crusty old bastard?" Lois said, her lip trembling.

"Well, I practically made you who you are today," he said. "And you were already more like me than is really healthy. All I have to do is look in a mirror."

"I love you, you sonofabitch," Lois muttered, flatly denying the tears on her cheeks.

"Love you too, you hotheaded pain in the ass," Perry replied lovingly. "Lois, you're holding yourself back – you're trying too hard not to step on my toes as assistant editor, and you're backing off being a reporter, too. You can do both, to an extent; those jaded hacks will respect you more if they see you down in the trenches with them. But you've got to quit pussy-footing around the management stuff."

"Dammit, I don't _want_ to cross you," Lois argued, brusquely rubbing her cheeks. "Look at that bullshit with Ames the other day."

He frowned at her, making his disapproval clear. "Since when were you a coward? So you screw up something I set up. What's the worst that'll happen, we'll yell at each other? Damn, Lois, we do that every friggin' day. Lord knows you rain fire and destruction over in International when you and Kent run afoul of each other, and you're _sleeping_ with him. How come I'm so special you won't fight with me anymore?"

Lois just looked down, and he read shame in her eyes. "Speaking of Clark," he said, too casually for her to miss his meddling, "is everything okay at home?"

That made Lois look positively ill. "I'd rather not discuss it."

"I remember when every bit of business between the two of you got yelled across the newsroom," Perry sighed. "From that theatrical-as-hell 'we're together now' kiss on his desk to every story you two have ever fought over. As I recall, it was usually _your_ big mouth spreadin' the news."

She glared at him sourly. "Chief, it's personal," Lois said shortly.

"Is he cheating?" Perry asked dryly, and Lois sat up abruptly, looking horrified. "Guess that's a no. Are you cheating on him?"

"Perry!" Lois yelped.

"Well, I know he's not hitting you, because I haven't seen him in a cast," Perry said drolly. "In my experience, everything else can be worked out. If you need some time off, just ask. I'm not so old I can't still run your department for a week or two."

"Time off is the _last_ thing I need," Lois retorted, her jaw set. "The mood we're in right now, if we took a week off we'd _be_ the front page."

Perry caught a promising hint there; Clark had left his own New Year's Eve party to go cover a Superman story last night. _Lois'_ turf, even if the story was international, and she'd been left home while he ran out and scooped her. Furthermore, the City room had been completely surprised by today's front page story on the nuclear reactor, so Lois hadn't even known _where_ her husband was going until he'd already turned in his copy.

"Speaking of the front page," Perry segued neatly, "didja see today's? Your favorite story never gets a break, does he? Out in Russia in the middle of winter, dealing with a nuclear reactor."

"I heard about it," Lois said, and looked hurt. Perry figured he'd hit the nail on the head, but Lois refused to talk about it any further. Lifting her head, her expression controlled, she said quietly, "Listen, Chief, since you mention it, I need to go liaise with International about that story."

"Go on, quit taking up my space," Perry said, waving her out nonchalantly. Lois just scoffed as she went out the door, making a concerted effort to slam it a little bit. Only when the door closed behind her did he smile after her and murmur, "That's my girl."

…

Lois was lost in thought as she made her way over to International, trying to get all of the thoughts in her head straight before she actually had to deal with her husband face-to-face. Damn Perry for meddling like some match-making old woman, but he knew exactly what he was doing and she had to admit he was right. Something had to be done.

She'd been dreading this all morning, all the last of the evening before as well, if she was honest, and having seen the damn broadcast coverage of the meltdown from the night before only a few minutes after she'd walked into the department hadn't helped much either. Just from the images that were shown, she understood why Kal-El had likened it to Chernobyl and had just closed her eyes in defeat. It never seemed to fail; it always came down to a sacrifice on someone's part and lately, it had been her turn. And with good reason, she had thought as she stood alone in the empty City room, watching her husband and his teammates do the impossible. There were some things only he could do and she needed no more proof than watching him help rescue victims of the horrifying accident.

But knowing this, seeing it with her own two eyes, that didn't change the reasoning behind what she had said last night, and reconciling both her needs and those of world was becoming impossible. And so far, trying to make her heart and head understand them just made her frustrated and angry. Something had to be done, but divorcing him wasn't the answer, she thought as she paused outside his office and just watched him as she steeled herself. There had to be a way to scale back his involvement in his mission at least to level it had been before the League. Once upon a time, there had been time for both his career as Superman and his life with her. There had been a time when Clark had had more time for the _Daily Planet_. And, whether she wanted to admit to the weakness of it or not, she needed him in her life, needed him there when she couldn't stand on her own.

The fairytale had a mass of hair-thin fractures in its surface that no one else saw, but those inside. But it wasn't broken, not yet. Looking back on their years together, of the first rush of attraction that had gripped them the night of his first save, of her affectionate exasperation with Clark, of the adventures shared between them, how could they give that up? Despite the pain that all of this was causing her, the moments that she was having to steal back from his life as a hero; how could she give up the feel of her hands in his hair, the way he said her name, the way he had the most generous and loving heart she had ever known? From the moment she had first seen him, she had known what she wanted. And now, after all this time, she knew that hadn't changed one iota. The question was: was that still possible?

Taking one final breath to steady herself, Lois opened the door without knocking and strode straight forward to face Clark over his desk. It took every bit of steel in her to look into those blue eyes and state, "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do," he said quietly, looking at her steadily. Lois didn't know what to read in his eyes as he stepped toward her; his expression was so full of emotions she couldn't decipher them. And then, ever so softly, he cupped her face between his hands. Strength that could bend steel and compress coal into diamond held her feather-light as Clark bent to kiss her.

Lois felt her heart twist as she lifted her lips to his. She hadn't expected this, but was deeply grateful for it. In spite of everything, in spite of her grief and guilt and feelings of failure as a mother and wife, she still loved him, still wanted this comfort. They kissed, tenderly, and Lois wasn't surprised to taste the salt of tears in it. But who had begun to weep, herself or Clark? Or both?

He drew back from her, his eyes glimmering. "I love you," he said huskily. "I've always loved you, and I always will love you. We have to get through this, Lois. Whatever I've done to hurt you, I'm sorry. Whatever we need to do to make things right again, we'll do it. Together. _Always_ together."

She just nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. Lois trembled, and he pulled her close, holding her. When she could finally speak, she whispered, "Love you," and he kissed the top of her head.

Sweetly reassuring as this was, though, Lois knew she had to clear the air between them. She was still holding something back from him, and it was time to bring her investigation into Luthor out into the open. The realization, yesterday, that her fishing for information had been misinterpreted by her source had also opened her eyes to the fact that _Clark_ had probably noticed all the time she spent with Eastlake. She had to let him know that it wasn't what it seemed; she had no interest in the younger man, only in the clues he might possess to Luthor's whereabouts.

And that meant telling Clark about the deal she'd made exactly ten years ago. Lois shivered again, remembering how coldly confident Luthor's voice had been. He'd had _proof_ both of Clark's identity, and of the twins' parentage, and he'd been keeping track of _all_ of her extended family, even Ron and Lucy.

They'd faced each other in a forgotten corner of the subway on New Year's Eve, laying all of their cards on the table, each threatening the other. If Lois had only screamed, Kal-El would have been there in an instant, and Luthor would have spent that night in prison. Since the Metropolis police had the film of him killing his henchman Riley, he'd likely be sentenced to death. The only thing keeping Lois quiet was the fact that Luthor would have ruined her family's lives and reputations if he went to jail. He would've gone public with Superman's true identity, and the twins, just starting to accept their new lifestyle, would've been uprooted again as the family fled from the inevitable media backlash.

Lex had been smart enough to see the situation for what it was: mutually assured destruction. He wouldn't be alive long enough to savor his victories, so he offered to keep silent and pull his spies off the family if Lois stopped trying to find him. She'd agreed, reluctantly, choosing the lesser of two evils to keep her family safe. Lois had also insisted that Lex let Katherine Kowalski go – she'd learned that the woman had helped keep her kids safe, and from the sounds of things she had been as much a captive about that yacht as the twins were. Luthor had agreed, and they'd officially had a ceasefire – what Lois thought of as her deal with the devil.

And then Lex had kissed her. Revolted, Lois had bitten him and shoved him away, only to have him laugh in her face. His voice still mocked her from the depths of her memory. _"Remember this: I could have asked for so much more. What wouldn't you give to protect them, Lois?" _

She'd been sickened, but she'd kept her word all these years, until now. Now she had proof of her own, data that would refute Luthor's accusations, and he had been deliberately baiting her with L-Tech's KAL processor. That had been too much for the reporter to resist, and she felt like she was very close on the madman's trail. But she could no longer do this alone, no matter how angry Clark would be when she told him.

"Clark, there's something I need to tell you," Lois whispered, looking up at him worriedly.

"What is it?" he asked, stroking her face.

"I…"

Lois' cell phone rang sharply, interrupting her, and she reached for it with an obscure sort of gratitude. "Just a sec," she murmured to Clark, and then flipped her phone open. "Lois Lane."

…

Jason felt better after having lunch with Giselle. She'd managed to comfort him with the reminder that whatever Kala had been up to the previous night, it probably looked a whole lot worse than it was. "If anything, she's always condescending to boys," she'd said, holding Jason's hand while they waited for their salads. "And you – her twin brother – don't even know who this guy is. He can't be someone important enough for her to have done more than a little necking. It's just that she's so pale, she shows hickies really well."

He'd spoken to her on the phone that morning, and told her the whole story of how Kala arrived (editing out the super-speed) and the huge fight she'd gotten into with Mom, then the argument between Mom and Dad. "They might split up," Giselle had said, her eyes sorrowful; her own parents were divorced, and she never saw her father. "But Jason, it might be for the best."

"You don't know them," he'd insisted. "Love like that never ends."

"I used to think so, too," she'd sighed, and changed the topic. He'd wound up spending more time with her than he'd expected, and arrived home later in the afternoon.

Jason let himself in with his key and headed up to his room; it was almost time for Gazeera's mid-afternoon snack. The lizard got plenty of fresh veggies and a commercial iguana diet first thing in the morning, but Jason also gave him a serving of fruit dusted with calcium powder. When school was in, he got that as soon as Jason arrived home, but there was no harm in giving him his treat early.

But the special cup was already inside the cage, with a few demolished fruits lying scattered nearby. Gazeera lay happily along his sunning branch, and there was a smear of something reddish-purple on his head. Jason looked closer, worried, and then recognized the substance. "Kal!" he yelled across the hall. "I _told_ you, lipstick isn't good for him!"

There was no answer, and Jason immediately regretted yelling. Kala had had enough of being yelled at lately. He went across the hall and knocked on her door, preparing to apologize – and just maybe, talk about last night.

The door swung inward at the first rap of his knuckles. Jason froze, an icy feeling settling in his stomach. "Kala?" he called out, listening intently for any reply. There was none … and no sound of her heartbeat, either. Not in the room, not in the house. Not in the entire apartment building.

"Oh, _shit_," Jason muttered. "Kala, you _idiot_." He hurried into her room, frantically looking for any clues to where she might've gone. Jason knew he had to get her back before Mom and Dad came home. If they found out she'd skipped out on restriction in addition to last night's curfew-breaking, she'd be grounded 'til she turned eighteen.

Desperate to save Kala from her own stubborn defiance, Jason looked at her desk and her bed, but found nothing. He went to her closet and flung the doors open, telling himself to look for anything unusual, anything out of place…

Her backpack, which normally hung on a hook inside the closet door, was missing. And so were some clothes. That was bad; Kala might be running off to a friend's house, probably Sebast, and planning to stay there a few days. Jason's heart seemed to have jumped into his throat, cutting off his air with each worried pulse. How could she be this stupid? How could she imagine this would make anything better? Kala wasn't dumb. She should've known better.

He stepped away from the closet, and saw her jewelry box atop her dresser. Jason bit his lip; he wasn't supposed to know that Kala kept her spare money in it. But some particle of intuition urged him to check that, too. If she hid her money there, she might've hid notes from the guy who'd gnawed up her neck. The rest of the family still didn't know who had done it, and Jason felt stupid for believing his sister was actually _not dating_ since their birthday party. Anyone would think to look for Kala at Sebast's, but since no one knew who this guy was, if she really wanted to hide out for a couple days she'd call _him_.

Jason opened the jewelry box, and his hands started to shake at what he found. She'd taken _everything_ with her, even the little braided-copper ring she couldn't wear because it turned her skin green. He lifted out the top tray, expecting to see money underneath; last he'd heard, Kala had about fifty dollars squirreled away.

The money was gone, too. Jason's heart plummeted to the bottom of his stomach, and the chill crept up his spine. Something was wrong, something was very wrong in this room, he'd known it from the moment he stepped in…

He turned slowly, his eyes settling on the one thing that no one else would've noticed. For a moment, his heart stopped, and then he was scrambling for his phone, dialing Mom's cell number. "You need to get here now," he blurted as soon as she answered the phone, still staring at the blank patch of wall on which the most recent family portrait should have been hanging. "I think Kala ran away!"

* * *


	20. Never Say Never

* * *

The shock of what was happening sank into Jason with bone-crunching teeth, full-fledged panic tunneling into the core of his soul with the notion that Kala could leave him behind like this. He knew his twin well enough to realize this wasn't just a whim, and it scared the hell out of him that she had gone this far with it. This time not even his mother's voice could steady him as she told him to stay where he was, she and Dad were on their way. He hung up the phone in a daze, shivering in spite of the heater being on, and stared around Kala's room. The feeling of being lost and alone just wouldn't abate. Why now? Why would she do this now? She had never even played at running off before, not even in her younger temper tantrums. Everything around him seemed to fade away for a moment, the world not quite real, until the sound of jangling metal roused him. Captain Bonnie was rattling her cage bars at him, and he made himself move forward to let the ferret out, petting her worriedly. Jason felt a slick spot on her black-furred head, and knew that Kala had kissed her pet goodbye, as well.

It was like a sledgehammer to the heart_, _the strength with which that gesture struck him. _ She's gone. She really means it. She's really gone._ The pain and fear of it tore at him with ragged nails. As often as they drove each other out of their minds with aggravation, he felt as though a vast abyss had opened within him, a gulf that had until this moment been filled by his twin. Kala, the one who soothed his nightmares, knew his secrets, defended him fiercely against school bullies, was gone. Telling himself their parents would soon find her didn't work; the fact that she'd left of her own volition was shock enough to cause that awful separation.

The ferret nipped his hand, and Jason startled back to himself. With his thoughts wandering so far away, he was squeezing her a little, as if by holding on to his sister's pet he could somehow keep hold of Kala herself. "Sorry," he murmured, rubbing the ferret's tiny ears. She squirmed, and he put her back into her cage.

What else should he be doing right now? There had to be something, right? But he wasn't supposed to leave, just in case Kal came back. Jason gave a groan of frustration, cradling his head in his hands and trying to think around the feelings of loss and fear. Despite how it looked, she might come home when it got late; there were snow showers expected tonight. Plus, what could she do on fifty bucks? That gave him hope; she couldn't manage a hotel room on that much in Metropolis, not even in Suicide Slum. She'd have to come home, in that case, he told himself firmly with a deep breath to steady himself, ignoring the niggling doubts in the back of his mind.

He launched himself into action then, his mind racing. He had to call Richard and Lana, let them know what was going on. Being that low on money, Kala might just decide to go to them; she got along with Lana better than Mom, these days. He picked up his phone again and dialed their number. After that, maybe he ought to call Sebast…

…

Richard leaned against the counter, watching his wife idly. Lana thought it ridiculous to pay extra for vegetables that were already sliced, so she bought everything whole and cut it herself. At the moment she was slicing carrots for dinner that night, the knife flashing in her hand. "You know, you save a dollar or so by not buying pre-sliced veggies, but the knife set cost you _how_ much?" he teased gently.

"I don't mind paying for quality," she replied, "just not convenience." The redhead held up her favorite chef's knife to illustrate her point. "You can buy one that _looks_ like this at any discount store for five or ten dollars. But it won't have the full tang construction – it'll start to wobble in a couple of years. It won't be high-quality German stainless steel, so it won't hold an edge as long, and it may start to rust. It won't be so perfectly balanced and easy to use. And it won't last anywhere near as long. Kristin's children will be able to use these knives."

Richard shrugged, glancing at the knife block, where a complete set of blades rested. "I suppose I should take your insistence on the highest quality as a compliment, hmm? Considering you married me."

"Of course, darling," Lana said, and smiled at him. "It's all about value – and I managed to get two close friends and a couple of stepchildren thrown in with you, so I'd say that was a pretty good deal."

"You only married me for the package deal," Richard chuckled.

"I'd tell you what I married you for, but our daughter's in the next room," Lana retorted, sea-green eyes bright with mischief.

Richard leaned in to steal a kiss, murmuring, "If I ever told everyone back home in Smallville how wicked you really are…"

"None of them would believe you," she whispered back against his lips.

The phone rang, and Richard sighed as he went to answer it. "Hello?"

"Dad, I need your help," Jason said, his voice shaking.

"What happened?" Richard asked. His tone made Lana put down the knife and come to stand beside him, her hand on his shoulder. He put the call on speakerphone so she could hear it as well.

"Kala ran away," the boy replied, and to Richard's shock he heard Jason give a hitching breath, trying not to sob. The whole story poured out of him in a rush. "She and Mom got into it last night, and Mom slapped her, and Kala went to hit her back, and Dad stopped her because Kala could've really hurt her, and then Kala went to her room and Dad and Mom got into a big fight and Kala wouldn't talk to me." He had to take a breath then, and continued, "Dad grounded her this morning, and he said I should go have lunch with Giselle like I planned, and while I was gone Kala packed her stuff and _left_. I don't even know where she went!"

"We'll find her," Richard said reassuringly. "Have you told Lois and Clark?"

"Yes," Jason sniffled. "They're coming home. But … I thought she might come to your place. Maybe."

"In that case," Lana said gently, "we should stay here and wait for her. I don't want her arriving to an empty house. If she gets here, she might talk to me."

"Good idea," Richard said. "Jason, your mom will be home in a few minutes, the way she drives. I'll stay on the line with you 'til then, okay?"

Jason drew in a steadier breath. "No, I need to call Sebast. I … Kala wasn't supposed to be on the phone, but she was so miserable, I let her talk to him. I need to find out what she told him, if she's going to his place."

"Okay," Richard said. "Good idea, son."

"Jason, listen," Lana added. "You might want to call the rest of her friends, too. Lois and Clark will want to do that, but it should be you who makes the calls – Kala's friends are more likely to talk to you than to her parents."

"Right," Jason said. He was growing calmer the longer they talked.

"And just ask if they know where she is," Richard said. "Promise not to tell her parents, if you have to, to get the truth from them. The most important thing is making sure she's safe. We'll work on getting her home later."

"That's smart," Lana said. "Her friends won't want to betray her, but they ought to understand why you're worried."

"We can always pull a fast one later and have Jason tell Kristin," Richard said.

Lana swatted him lightly. "Don't teach your son to be _quite_ as much of a scoundrel as you are," she admonished.

"All right," Jason said. His voice was steady again, sounding almost normal now that he had something constructive to do. "I'm gonna start calling. Thanks."

"Take it easy, Jason," Richard said. "She'll probably be home tonight." Jason hung up, and Richard replaced the phone with a heavy sigh.

"You think so?" Lana asked him.

"I hope," Richard said. "But this is Kala we're talking about. She's never done anything by halves."

Lana slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him, her brow furrowed. "Jason said Lois and Clark argued last night," she said. "I think we might've waited one day too long."

"It's not like we could've dragged them off in the middle of the party," Richard said. "He missed most of it."

"For a nuclear accident," Lana sighed, mentioning the story they'd both seen on the news and in the paper this morning. "Lois and Kala fought, too. I should've said something to Lois about Kala sooner – I've seen what's going on, I just didn't want to interfere with her parenting. Or we should've come home a day early and confronted Lois and Clark."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty," Richard replied, rubbing her shoulders. "You couldn't know this would happen." She didn't reply, just cuddled closer to him, all their plans for the day forgotten in the face of this new crisis.

…

The world was flying past her in a blur, Lois driving far too fast and weaving in and out of traffic; for once Clark didn't criticize her. His face was grim, his blue eyes steely. Her stomach was roiling, and Lois was suddenly glad she hadn't bothered with breakfast or lunch. In defiance of last night's fiasco, Kala had finally done the one thing Lois feared the most – she'd run away from home, gone somewhere Lois couldn't watch over her, couldn't keep her safe. Anything could happen to the twins if they were out of their mother's sight… _You damned idiot, this is all __**your**__ fault. You should have __**known**__ that this would happen. What would you have done at that age? __**Dammit**__!_ "Please tell me you hear something?" she asked Clark, fighting valiantly to keep the panic out of her voice.

"No," he said, and Lois noticed that his knuckles had gone white where he gripped the hand-bar. It was like salt in a wound to see the look on his face. He was scared, too, and trying to hide it from her, as well. "I can't isolate her heartbeat, Lois. And she has the hearing, too. She knows exactly where to go to hide from me."

Her response was immediate and matter-of-fact, her jaw clenched. "So we'll start searching those places."

"_I'll_ start searching." Seeing the way that her wounded eyes swung to his and aware of just how stern that had sounded, Clark placed his hand over hers. "Lois, I fly faster than you drive … barely. Once we're home to see if she left any clues, I'll start looking. You stay with Jason – he needs you."

The reporter felt her lips try to tremble and fought it. She could never remember Jason sounding so shaken and out-of-sorts since he started into his teens. And it took a lot to scare Jason, even now the child she had called her 'Zen Baby'. Forcing herself to get a hold on her emotions, Lois locked her eyes to the road. "He's terrified," Lois said in a voice that sounded so small in spite of her best efforts.

Clark rubbed her arm gently, knowing she was just as scared. "You and Jason can canvass her friends, the likely places she might be headed. I'll check everyplace she could be hiding from my hearing. If we don't find her in a couple hours, we'll call Maggie. She can get a missing-persons case started."

Lois drew in a shuddering breath, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. "We'll find her," she stated firmly. "There's no other option."

"We will," he replied, and she heard the faintest tremble in his voice. "We're _reporters_. Finding what doesn't want to be found is our _job_."

Lois just nodded, not bothering to point out that she and Clark were both trying to convince themselves as much as each other. Kala was only a teenager, true, but a teen with superpowers – and smart like both of her parents. If she wanted to stay lost, she might just be able to do so.

…

Sebast snatched his cell phone up the minute it rang, having spent the last couple of hours feeling like the worst kind of heel. When he saw the name on the caller ID, he felt an unevenly-mixed rush of gratefulness and trepidation that didn't stop him from pushing the 'TALK' button immediately. Before he could let out his apology in a rush that Kala couldn't interrupt, he realized that it was Jason calling him this time and panicked at that. "Hey, is Kala with you?" the other boy asked, his voice tense, then added without waiting for an answer, "Are you expecting her any time soon? 'Cause she's not here, and I can't find her."

That was not the news Sebast had been hoping to hear and with Jason delivering it, he couldn't help the dread that washed over him, especially in light of his and Kala's earlier misunderstanding. "No, she isn't, and I'm not. When she hung up the phone she was pretty mad at me. Jason…"

Those few words were all he managed, Jason cutting him off again in a nervy, distracted tone. "If she calls, or if she shows up there, _call me_. Please, Sebast. I won't get her in trouble, I just have to know she's okay." Sebast had known Jason long enough to know the strain in his voice meant that he was trying his hardest to hold it together.

"I will, _muchacho_," Sebast sighed, throwing himself back onto his bed in disgust. "But I think the chances of that are pretty slim. She's not going to come over here unless she _has_ to. Jason, I told her…"

He'd didn't have time for more than that. "I have to go," Jason was cutting him off mid-sentence again. "My phone's ringing. I hope it's her. Thanks, man; I'll let you know what's going on later."

The phone clicked as he broke the connection, and Sebast stared at it. He sighed, bonking the phone against his forehead. "Kala, Kala, what the hell have you done now? And why do I get the feeling a good part of it is your dumb-ass best friend's fault?" he murmured to his empty room. That in itself was reason enough to beat his head against the wall. Worse, Jason had barely let him get a word in edgewise, so the boy didn't know his own girlfriend had manufactured the rumor that led to Kala and Sebast's falling-out. "This _sucks_," Sebast muttered, and resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. How could he have been this stupid?

…

Lana had her own office in the penthouse, and one side of the room was all business, containing her desk, her computer, her files, her phone – all the essentials of a home office. The other side of the room was completely different: a sinfully comfortable cube-shaped leather-covered chair divided the space, with only a small table in front of it. Lana was currently sitting there, her posture relaxed and her hands pressed together in front of her. She had three views, depending on which way she looked; one was the Metropolis skyline out the window in front of her, and the other two were much-enlarged photographs of the view from the beach house on Paradise Island and the back deck of the cabin in the North Carolina mountains. But the designer wasn't looking at any of those. Her eyes were closed, and her mind was focused far away. _Please, dear Lord, bring Kala home safely…_

"Mommy?" That was Kristin's voice from the hallway. Lana smiled slightly, making sure to add thanks for her blessings to the prayer before opening her eyes and looking at her daughter. Kristin grinned when she saw she had her mother's attention, and said in her usual delighted burble, "I jus' finished puttin' together the puzzle I got for Christmas. It was _hard__!"_

"And you did it all by yourself, didn't you, you bright girl?" Lana replied, holding out her arms. Kristin came to her quickly and scrambled up into her lap. When she leaned her head against her mother's shoulder, the shades of their hair matched so exactly that they seemed for a moment like one being.

"Jason helped a little," Kristin confessed. "But not a lot. He jus' helped with the sky bits. They're hard, Mommy."

"They are," Lana said, nuzzling her daughter's hair. It smelled faintly of cotton candy, her current favorite shampoo. "You did very well, honey."

"I wanna call Kala an' tell her," Kristin proclaimed happily. "Can I use the phone?"

Lana suddenly felt as if a great wave hung over her, blocking out the sun and threatening to drown her. _Do not grieve for that which has not been lost,_ she told herself sternly, and _if your heart aches for the lack of Kala, imagine how __**Lois**__ feels. She'll need your strength, not your maundering._

"Not right now, sweetheart," the redhead said gently. "Kala … Kala can't use the phone."

"Why?"

"She's in trouble," Lana explained.

Just that simple explanation wasn't enough for Richard White's daughter. "But why?"

"Well, Clark and Lo-Lo told her to be home by a certain time, and she didn't do it. So she's grounded."

A frown floated over the little girl's face, but it wasn't as if this was the first time Kala had been treated to that punishment. Nevertheless, the expected response followed. "Why?" Kristin asked again. Her eyes sparkled at this old game, and Lana's strategy for distracting her from the truth seemed to be working so far.

Lana couldn't help the slight smile that teased her lips even as she tried to stay serious. "Well, because when daughters don't obey the rules, their moms have to punish them so they don't grow up to become utter reprobates."

The smaller redhead made a face and stared at her mother, the big word entirely foreign to her. "Whatsa rep-robe-ate?" Kristin asked curiously.

"A bad, bad, bad person who never follows the rules or does what she's asked … and never, ever gets any ice cream for dessert," Lana answered, and tapped Kristin's nose softly. The little girl giggled, and her laughter rang sweetly sharp through Lana's heart. _Please, dear God, bring Kala home safe and __**soon**__,_ she prayed. _I hate hiding the truth from Kristin. And worse, I don't know how long I can keep her from finding out. If she learns that Kala ran away, she's going to think Kala left __**her**__._

…

The phone was ringing an awfully long time, and then suddenly it was answered. But not by the voice Elise expected to hear. "Hello?"

Jason's voice startled Elise so badly that she felt her heart stutter in surprise, and for a moment she couldn't reply. "Um, hi," she began skittishly, and realizing how lame that sounded, she mentally kicked herself for acting like a moron. That done, she made her voice firm and businesslike. "I'm sorry, Jason. I was just returning Kala's call. I didn't realize she'd dialed from your phone since both numbers are in your mom's name. Idiot me for not thinking about the number I was dialing. I'll hang up now…"

"No!" he said, so hastily that Elise held the phone away from her ear and stared at it in shock. "No, Elise, it's okay. I just … I didn't know it was you, either, I didn't look at my caller ID when the phone rang, I just kinda picked it up, and if Kala called you I need to talk to you anyway…"

She knew him well enough to know that disjointed rambling wasn't his usual conversational style. "Whoa there, hold up," she said, starting to frown. "Jason, what's going on? You don't sound right."

He took a deep breath, and she heard a quiver in his voice when he answered. "Kala ran away from home. There was a big fight last night, she got grounded, and I took pity on her and let her use my phone today. I thought she just talked to Sebast, though."

"She called me," Elise answered, that frown deepening. "I went down to pick up some Chinese from across the street when she called, so she left a message, but she sounded … off. Like she expected to talk to me and didn't know what to say on the voicemail."

No sooner had she said that than Jason asked in a kind of desperate excitement, "Did she say anything about where she was going?"

The hope in his voice was obvious, and Elise hated to dash it. "No," she replied miserably, starting to pace the living room rug. "She just said she wanted to talk to me, but she'd call later, and then she hung up."

Jason swore softly under his breath. "I gotta call her other friends," he said then, and she knew he was already thinking of what to do next. Just when she expected him to ring off, he paused and added in a grateful tone she'd never expected to hear again, "Elise … thanks for letting me know."

She closed her eyes with a sigh and a pained smile. Even over the phone she could imagine the worried and preoccupied expression that matched the anxiety on his face. She was one of the few in the world that were aware of just how close the Lane-Kent twins were. "Sure," Elise murmured. "She'll be all right, Jason. You know Kala; she'll cool down. She always does."

He hung up without saying anything else, his mind clearly distracted, and Elise sat there staring at her phone. All of a sudden, she remembered Nick Powell. That was one friend – however dubious the designation was – that none of Kala's family and other friends knew about. Elise didn't know much about him beyond his name, but she knew she needed to at least tell Jason that much. She picked up the phone and dialed his number from memory, but all she got was a busy tone. He was clearly calling other people. She sighed and resolved to try again in a few minutes.

…

Giselle called Jason in the middle of the day, and reached him after a couple of tries. He was distracted and only spoke to her for a minute before rushing back into his frantic poll of Kala's friends. The pretty girl gnawed her lip, worried about him – this panicky rush was unlike the Jason she knew, who did most things deliberately.

She flipped open her phone again and dialed Justine. "Mom?" she said, when the blonde answered. "I just spoke to Jason. He thinks Kala ran away."

"That's terrible news," Justine replied. "His poor parents must be frantic. Although I must say it's not a surprise. From what I've heard of her, Kala's rather impulsive and temperamental."

"She is that," Giselle said. "Jason sounds pretty much deranged. I think I ought to go to him – his parents are gonna be freaking out, he'll need a shoulder to lean on."

"That's very kind of you," Justine said, approval warm in her voice. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mom," Giselle replied, and shut the phone with a tiny smile.

…

The doorbell rang, and Jason sighed. "I gotta go, Scott," he said. "Thanks." He hung up the phone – due to the urgency of the situation, Jason had let his telephone etiquette slide rather severely, cutting conversations down to the bare essentials. He hurried to the door, knowing Mom and Dad would want an update…

…but when he flung the door open, Elise was standing there. Jason froze in utter shock, staring at her.

Elise clearly felt as awkward about it as he did; her shoulders were tense, and she gestured a little more than usual when she spoke. "Listen, you hung up on me too soon," she said, then winced a little. "Okay, no, that sounds too much like creepy-stalker-ex, when this has nothing to do with me being your ex. It might as well be Sebast telling you this, only he can't because he doesn't know and I don't know why Kala didn't tell him. And I tried calling you, but your phone was busy, and I don't have the house line written down anywhere because really, who uses land lines anymore, so I figured, what the hell, it's only five blocks…"

Jason looked at her, perplexed, feeling as though he'd walked into the middle of a conversation. She was rambling, which wasn't normal for Elise, either. Suddenly she sighed and gave a little shake of her head. "I sound … like a complete moron. Jeez. Look, Jason, I might know something that'll help you find Kala."

That was the best news he'd had in two days. Jason grinned, unaware that his sudden smile lanced into Elise's heart. Her mouth twisted as she thought, _Guess you're not over him, huh?_

What he did next surprised them both. Jason grabbed Elise's shoulder and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for an instant, then wrapped her arms around him with a glad sigh. Jason hugged her tightly, his cheek against her hair, and murmured softly, "Thank God you're here, Elise."

"It's gonna be okay, Jason. It's gonna be fine. We'll find her," she murmured, rubbing his back. She'd almost forgotten how good, how _right,_ it felt to be in his arms. That was most of the reason why she'd broken off their relationship. Anything that felt like this couldn't be trusted; following your heart's crazy whims was a sure way of getting yourself into trouble your head couldn't get you out of.

"Wh-What is _this_?" a furious voice cried from behind Elise. She pulled away from Jason, turning to stare into very hurt and shocked green eyes. Elise had never shut the door, and Giselle had simply walked in.

"Giselle, it's not what you think," Jason started, raising his hands, but the black-haired girl was ahead of him.

Taking a step toward Elise, Giselle spat, "I knew it, you hussy, you couldn't stand to let him go! It was perfectly okay for _you_ to go get your freak on with some guy you met on _vacation_, but the minute Jason tries to move on, you're trying to wrap him around your little finger again! Well, it won't work this time – I won't let you!"

"_Whoa!_" Elise said throwing out her hand to ward the furious girl off. "Back the hell off, because you have no freakin' clue what's going on here."

"Don't you tell me to back off, you man-stealing slut," Giselle shot back.

"Oh _hell_ no," Elise growled. "Shut _up_, Giselle. You don't know me, and I know more than I need to about you. You were out to get Jason from the moment you saw him. Like you _really_ needed help with Algebra – you get top marks in that class, higher than Jason's grades." The reference to how they'd met silenced Giselle for a second, and Elise drew a breath to continue her counterattack.

"_ENOUGH!_" That voice shocked both girls to silence, and they turned to stare wide-eyed at Jason. He was angrier than either of them had ever seen him, and they'd never heard the edge of frustrated fury that was in his voice as he spoke. "I'm sure most guys would be _thrilled_ to have two girls fighting over them, but _this is __**not**__ the time_. My sister _ran away_. Until she's home, I don't have time for this bullshit! Knock it off and _help_ me, or get out!"

Elise's jaw dropped, and her cheeks burned with shame at her own behavior. But Giselle spoke first. She turned a horrified expression toward Jason, and her green eyes began to fill with tears. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "I'm so selfish… Jason, I'm sorry. I was just … I know you still care about her, and…" She stopped herself, lip trembling, as Jason only stared at her steadily, and then Giselle nodded. Her voice was firmer when she said, "You're right. We should be trying to find Kala, not fighting."

With that she turned to Elise, and gave her a chagrined little half-smile. "I apologize for being stupid. Sometimes, you know, he's way too good for me and I get a little crazy. Forgive me for being a complete moron?"

"You're not a moron," Elise said automatically. "I heard something that might help Jason find Kala. I couldn't reach him on the phone, so I came over."

Giselle nodded. "Me, too," she said. "I mean, the couldn't-reach-him-so-I-came-over part. I don't have a clue where Kala is – she never talks to me if she can help it."

"All right," Jason sighed. "If we're done…"

He never got the chance to finish, because Lois and Clark arrived at that moment. Elise had a moment to think that she, Giselle, and the Lane-Kents must have _just_ missed each other waiting for the elevator, and then Clark quietly stepped around the two girls to hug his son. Jason leaned against his father gratefully, and for a moment they just hugged. "We'll find her," Clark murmured, and Jason's breath hitched.

Elise and Giselle caught each other's gazes as they both looked away, giving Jason as much privacy as they could. "I really am sorry," Giselle said to her rival, looking miserable. "I know nobody around here likes me except _him_, least of all Kala, but … she's his sister. I'm afraid she'll … well, you know."

_Do something stupid and get hurt,_ Elise thought. Which was exactly why she was worried about Kala. "It's okay," Elise said. "He's wrecked over this. I just came over as a friend. I want her home – nothing will be the same until she is."

"Me, too," Giselle said, offering her hand. "Truce?"

Elise shook with her, wondering if she'd missed something about Jason's new girlfriend. Was it possible that everyone had read her wrong?

…

Immediately on coming into the apartment, Lois broke away, letting Clark console their son for the moment. She noticed Giselle and Elise peripherally, but their being there meant very little to her at that moment. Ever since Jason's phone call had come in, Lois had had a reporter's nagging hunch, and she knew she had to follow it up.

First she looked into Kala's room. The family portrait that had been sitting on her chest of drawers was gone, just as Jason had said on the phone, the gauzy scarf usually artfully arranged around the frame tossed carelessly on the dresser top. The icy feeling that the sight gave her couldn't be ignored and she was hard put to fight off the fear that was starting to build. She had known some angry, rebellious teenagers back when she'd been one of them, and a couple had run away from home a few times, mostly to protest their parents' unfairness. None had ever bothered to take a framed portrait of their family.

Lois, however, _had_ taken a picture of herself, Lucy, and their mother off the mantelpiece when she'd moved out. It had hung in her bedroom at her first shared apartment for two months before her roommates' smoking got her into trouble at work, and after she moved in with Perry White, the same photo had sat at the desk he gave her for her schoolwork. Later, when she shared a college apartment with Tobie and Cat, the portrait had hung in her room. It had always been a touch of home during times when she got to see her mother and sister once a week, at most.

Kala's taking the family portrait seemed ominous in that regard. Lois moved around her daughter's room slowly, her mother's eye and her own journalistic instincts taking in the details. Captain Bonnie had been left behind, a fact that seemed to argue for Kala's swift return, but the ferret's food and toys had been left conspicuously on the bookshelf nearest her cage. Furthermore, Lois saw some books missing from the shelves. Kala's read-to-tatters copy of Stephen King's _It_ was among the books taken, as was her copy of _Exiles: The Ruins of Ambrai_, another book that had been a staple of her shelf for years and well-loved. Lois felt her heart plummet, though, when she realized that _The Neverending Story_ wasn't in its place by Kala's bed. It had been always been her favorite book, the one she begged for Lois to read from at bedtime as a little girl. She'd had a paperback copy for many years, but had recently splurged on a fine hardcover version. Both were gone.

A part of her floundered then, wanting to turn away and keep telling herself that this was just a temper tantrum Kala was having, that the girl would be back when she over-spent on a lunch and dinner for herself and realized that none of her friends' parents would let her stay overnight without a phone call to her parents. How far could the kid get on the fifty she'd been hoarding? But she knew her own child well enough to know better. Pushing aside her hesitance, Lois headed resolutely for the closet next. While Jason had seen some clothes missing, Lois was all too aware that her daughter kept the closet stuffed almost to bursting, and at least a week's worth of clothes were taken. That also seemed to hint at something more serious than the angry-tantrum sort of runaway, the kind of kid who came home the next day after spending one night sleeping in a bus station. Not that Kala would ever consider a thing. Sooner an airport than that…

Locking down her misgivings on that nerve-wracking thought, Lois kept looking. She checked the hall closet, hoping her hunch would be wrong, but her rolling suitcase was gone as well. _She has her backpack and my suitcase. She has her favorite books, all her jewelry, and plenty of clothes. What would she take with her if she __**really**__ meant to leave, not just hide out at a friend's house for a few days?_

The answering came sickeningly clear, and Lois' stomach roiled mutinously as she moved swiftly out to the kitchen and yanked open the door to the freezer. She raked aside the other contents in search of one specific item. In the farthest back corner, there should have been a plastic bag marked 'Pork Chops' which actually contained cash … but it, too, was gone, and she had to face the truth. The sickening dread overwhelmed her then, Lois clutching the rim of the freezer to keep from losing her balance as tears stung her eyes. _Oh God, no. __**No**__. _Her fear in that moment was like physical pain. _She took it. She could be anywhere._

Her entire body just felt numb; as little as they liked to admit it, she and Kala had so much in common that there was no way that she could ignore the signs. Hadn't she been in just this kind of situation at her age? Although she had to admit that Kala was a lot better off than she had been. There was no misunderstanding what her daughter had planned. Making herself get it together, Lois stood up and closed the fridge door. Drawing herself up with pained sigh, she re-entered the living room and interrupted the discussion between the other four to say in leaden tones, "Call the cops. Kala took my suitcase and the running money – she has no intention of coming home."

…

Half a continent away, a bald man dismissed his assistant from his office and checked his email. The first message made him smile.

_**To: Alexander Roth**  
_

_**From: Mercy Graves **  
_

_**Subject: Results**_

_**Mr. Roth, our search engine poll from the resident programming in our Metropolis test servers has shown multiple hits on various values in the specified parameters. The highest concentration has been in the past week. You may be particularly interested to know that the first priority search term has been queried twice on the 31st of December and once today. Tracking the queries over time shows a definite pattern of the type we expected. Our projections for future searches would seem to be accurate at this point, but I will continue to monitor.**_

_**As the raw data is of a sensitive nature, I will send it to you by courier. Expect a package from me later in the week.**_

"Ah, Mercy," Lex sighed, reading over the email again. "You've never failed me." He leaned back in his chair and smiled, his mind turned – always – to the future.

* * *


	21. Confusing Stars for Satellites

**Due to the utter awesome that is ****_saavikam77_ finishing this guy early, up she goes. And up ratchets the action. Expect the unexpected from here on in, ladies and gents. Again, remember the subtitle from _Little Secrets_: **_**Nothing is what it seems.**_

* * *

Erik Eastlake wasn't entirely sure how he felt as he faced the balding man across from him. His outlook on this entire matter had been growing more off-balance as time drew on and he had gotten to know something more about Lois Lane-Kent. She was an intriguing woman, more dynamic than any woman his age, as well as quite attractive, and that made what he had done all the more distasteful. But business was business. A part of him was relieved that the _Daily Planet's_ assistant editor hadn't taken the bait, her integrity remaining intact, especially when he considered what was being planned.

Another part of him knew what the alternative plans in these circumstances might turn out to be and he didn't particularly envy her for what might come next. "Sir, I really don't think she's going to play ball. We should rethink our approach on this."

"No," the man in the chair before him said with a patronizing smile. A smile from which you expect to see canary feathers flowing. "The plans have been in place for several months, and so far the only roadblock to our progress is _you_. You haven't completed your assignment to our satisfaction."

The young investor frowned at that. "And I'm _telling_ you, that is not possible," Eastlake replied testily. "You don't know Lois Lane – she won't agree to your proposal."

"Oh, I think you'll find we know Lois Lane rather better than you do, young man," came the chuckled answer. "In any case, even if you're correct in your assumptions, her cooperation is not necessary to the plan." The older man leaned back in his expensive leather chair and regarded Eastlake through narrow, cold eyes. "In fact, it may be more profitable overall if she is simply … removed from the equation."

…

Usually, it was a cross to bear in the reporting world if you had friends in the police department, most especially if they had no problems pointing you out to other cops when you tried to sneak through a barricade. Or when you had managed to sneak evidence of a cover-up out of a company's headquarters and it was no hardship to figure out who the culprit was, Lois thought with a little amusement at the memory. It would have helped if her vendetta against _Newstime_ hadn't been a matter of public record quite that early in her career. She'd been sloppy when making her get-away; the fingerprints she had left behind when she rifled through the CEO's personal files had made it impossible for Mags to ignore the theft, had had to arrest her, and had yet to let her live it down for doing something so dumb. But the upside of having a high-ranking police inspector as one of your closest friends was quickly becoming apparent once again.

Maggie Sawyer was at the apartment a few minutes after the call first came in, barely missing Clark as he left to search for his daughter. It was Lois who quickly briefed her; the cop was sure that the reporter seemed cool, calm, and collected to the three teenagers' gazes, but Maggie saw her too-wide eyes and abrupt gestures.

Once Lois finished summarizing the morning's events in that too-controlled voice, Maggie paused to flip open her cell phone and speed-dialed. "Tobe, relay this to the others. Kala has a little over three thousand dollars cash on her. Send someone to the airport and the train station, just in case."

"The airport?" Giselle asked, bewildered. She was sitting on the sofa beside Jason, holding his hand, and Elise was in the chair nearby. All three kids had been listening closely; they'd finished calling all of Kala's friends and were waiting for orders from the grownups. "Inspector Sawyer, can a sixteen-year-old even buy a plane ticket without her parents' permission?"

"All of you are forgetting something. She doesn't look sixteen," Maggie said quietly. She looked at Lois to add, "And I wouldn't be surprised if she had a false ID."

Jason squared his jaw at that, as if Maggie had gravely insulted his twin sister. "Not Kal," he said stubbornly, his eyes accusing. "I'd know if she did."

Lois gave an exasperated sigh before saying softly, "Jason, honey, we have to face facts. _None_ of us knew about her boyfriend, not even your dad. I know you don't want to hear it, hell, _I_ don't want to hear it, either. But Maggie's got a point; no one in this family is really sure _what_ she's actually been up to…"

The front door was flung open then, and both Lois and Maggie rose to their feet fluidly, the reporter immediately reaching for her purse as the policewoman dropped her hand to her hip. There was a tense moment while they all waited to see what would come next.

And when it came, it was a relief. "All right, Jason, you're not picking up that damn phone and I've had about enough of this," they heard Sebast yell from the doorway. "_Muchacho_, you better be here, and you better listen to me this time, or I'm gonna…"

The young Latino man stormed in, his dark hair flying with the briskness of his stride, then skidded to an abrupt halt, seeing Jason, Giselle, and Elise. His dark eyes turned briefly furious at the sight of the black-haired girl, but since she was holding Jason's hand and rubbing his back, Sebast opened his mouth to say something and thought better of it for the moment. This wasn't the time or the place, not if they were going to find his _mamita_.

It was only then that he noticed the two adults. Maggie and Lois had eased down from their tense ready-to-draw-weapons posture, but both women were looking at him with exasperated disbelief. "Uh, the door was unlocked, Mom," he said hesitantly, flashing Lois a weak grin. Heaving a huge sigh and rolling her eyes expressively, the dark-haired woman pressed a palm to her forehead.

Maggie's reaction was a mirror of Lois'. Leave it to Sebastian Velez to make a dramatic entrance that would nearly get him shot. "Well, Mr. Velez, I take it you haven't seen Kala?" the blonde-haired woman asked calmly, and the boy just shook his head. "All right then, what were you saying about 'this time'?"

Sebast sighed, looking from the adults to the other three teenagers. His gaze lingered on Giselle again, and she glanced away, looking miserable. His hesitation made Lois shift her weight nervously, but before the reporter could say anything, Maggie spoke up again. "I've got family friends and off-duty cops canvassing the bus stations, train stations, and air ports. Jason and the girls here have called all Kala's friends and let them know we need to find her – not to drag her home kicking and screaming, but to make sure she's safe. If you know anything, I give you my personal assurance what you tell us won't get Kala in any more trouble than she already is." Maggie cut Lois a significant look, mostly for Sebast's benefit.

"It's not that," Sebast said, sitting down and rubbing his hands over his face briskly. "It's just… I only found out today that she went to Fuel last night without me. See, my grandmother broke her hip last night, and I had to watch Michael while _mis padres_ took her to the hospital, and I forgot to tell Kala I couldn't go. When she showed up, I told her, and she left, but she didn't tell me she was gonna go to the club anyway." He looked up at Lois then, and added, "I don't think she'd made that decision yet; I got the impression she was going home."

"Go on, Sebast. What happened then?" It was Jason who urged him this time, watching him with a puzzled expression.

"_Abuelita_'s gonna be fine," Sebast continued, trying to sound calm. "I went up to Fuel this morning, and the guy behind the counter, Brandon, couldn't wait to tell me all about Kala singing last night. She was really, really good … and then he mentioned that she left with some guy he didn't know, and Brandon knows pretty much our whole crew."

"The guy who left the hickies on her," Maggie said then, matter-of-factly. "Do _you_ know who Kala's been seeing, Sebast?"

That agitated the boy to the point that his words came out in the kind of rush you get with a shaken-up soda. "That's just the thing! I didn't know she was with anybody! This is the first I even heard of there being someone! The last one she was even seriously messing with was Caleb, and that was just to freak him out at the birthday party. The only guy she's been spending time with since then is _me_, so far as I know. Quarter finals were coming up, and we were all studying real hard." He caught himself before he could drift off into a tangent, and said, "Anyway, I don't know who her boyfriend is, and if anybody would know, it'd be me."

"That's what I said," Jason said in a small voice. He was pale and haunted-looking around the eyes, but the other boy offered Sebast a weak smile. "I guess she put one over on us both, huh?"

It was obvious to all around just how hard this was hitting Jason, so it was hard for Sebast to disagree. "Forgive me, _amigo_, but I think I know a little more about the details of what your sister's doing than you do," he said in a gentle tone. "She tries not to tell you things she knows you're gonna disapprove of. I mean, I know she got a Brazilian last summer, and _you_ sure as hell didn't know that." At the face Jason made then, Sebast turned to look at the rest of the assembled group. "This guy, he's a total mystery if _I've_ never heard of him. You guys all know that. He's gotta be someone she just met last night, and no matter _what_ rumors certain people are spreading, I know damn well she didn't let him get very far."

It was Lois that noticed that Elise had looked more and more uncomfortable the longer Sebast talked. Catching the reporter's intense gaze, she finally spoke up, already wincing at what she had to say. "I … I think I know who it was," she said carefully, and that turned the rest around to look at her. "Kala's kinda known him a while, but they weren't really, exactly, um, dating. It was more like just flirting."

The reporter's lips thinned then. This had been exactly what she'd been worried about. "If you'd seen her neck last night, you'd know it was more than flirting," Lois said, and her voice had gotten very quiet and controlled.

Maggie headed her off with a warning look. "Elise, we need to know who he is. If Kala's run off with him, at least we'll know where she is. But right now, she could be _anywhere_. I won't get him in trouble unless he's done something illegal."

"That could be a problem. See, he's a college guy, and I don't know if he even knows she's only sixteen…"

The words were just barely out of Elise's mouth before Lois swore suddenly and graphically, making all four teens jump and stare at her. Her diatribe ended with "…and she says she doesn't wanna be anything like me! Goddammit, Kala!" Elise winced again at that.

"Lois, ease down," Maggie told her, giving the reporter a stern look. "Elise, do you have a name for this guy? Or know what college he goes to?"

"Nick Powell." Jason, Sebast, and Giselle were all staring at her. Sebast looked almost comical, his dark eyes so wide with shock, but Jason's expression wounded Elise far more than it should have. She took a deep breath and continued, "I'd assume he goes to U of M."

"Assume nothing," Maggie said. "I'm not even going to take it as fact that he's actually attending a college here, or that he gave his real name. But it's a lead, anyway." Blue eyes going to Lois, she continued in a firm tone, "_My_ lead, Lane. I don't want you rolling up to this boy with guns blazing, understand?"

The dark-haired reporter's expression was down-right mutinous at this point. "I'm not gonna _shoot_ the sonofabitch for making out with my daughter."

Maggie couldn't help the slightest smirk. "Yeah, I know that, but your mouth's deadlier than that Ladysmith when you're mad," Maggie replied grimly. "And at least the gun's a fairly _quick_ death."

"After _how_ many years as a reporter, I know how to cultivate a source," Lois shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend. "I have no intention of pissing him off – or scaring him senseless – until my daughter's home. _Then_ his little jailbait-stalking ass is _mine_."

The two women had momentarily forgotten that the four teenagers were in the room, but Sebast reminded them by clearing his throat. "Can I have the next spot in the line to kick his ass?" he asked.

"You can have third, once we're done," Jason said with uncharacteristic bluntness, his expression as deadly serious as his mother's. "I'm her _brother_."

That was enough to make Inspector Sawyer heave a heavy sigh. It was to be expected from this family. "Don't leave any marks," Maggie muttered. "I might have an inside lead on this guy, if we're lucky. In the meantime, we'll check everything else…"

…

Kal-El flew along the subway, listening intently and ignoring the shocked expressions on people's faces when he darted out of the tunnel right before a train. He'd thought he would find Kala here, for sure; she practiced her super-hearing on the subway precisely because it was such a difficult environment for that power. Even he needed to concentrate down here…

…and anything that intruded on that concentration was decidedly unwelcome. His cell phone was silenced, but the sound of electrical relays firing as a text message came in still distracted him at this level of concentration. Irritated at the interruption but hoping it was Lois with good news, Kal-El soared out of the subway and sought the sky.

It wasn't Lois. The message was from Barbara Gordon, also known as Oracle: _anyone up for penny-ante poker? call back if you're free._ The JLA used codes for all communications that could possibly be intercepted, no matter how unlikely that was. At the moment, they were using the pretense of seeking more players in a card game to solicit help from other members of the team.

Fortunately, 'penny ante' meant trouble that could easily be handled by junior members of the League, if they worked together. On the other hand, if Oracle had included the phrase 'five-card stud', it would have indicated the kind of emergency that Kal-El needed to look into. If she'd said 'bridge' instead, it was serious but not critical. 'Blackjack' indicated that everyone available should respond immediately; the event was of worldwide consequence. The nuclear reactor would have been a 'blackjack', but so very few of them could even approach it…

The distraction had cost him time, however, and Kal-El didn't have time to waste. He flipped open his phone and dialed Oracle's secure line. As soon as she answered, he said shortly, "I'm afraid I won't be coming to any card games in the near future."

"Sorry to hear that," she replied, each word heavy with curiosity. "Any particular reason?"

They had codes for all sorts of potential stumbling blocks. Saying your spouse didn't want you out late was the standard euphemism for 'this may compromise my identity'. But there was no code for 'my child is missing', and in any case, Kal-El had not been particularly careful about learning the code words for getting _out_ of duty. He considered himself to be on-call nearly all the time.

He was left with the truth. "My daughter ran away from home," he said simply, and listened to a beat of shocked silence before adding, "I need to find her."

"Ah, could you … would you like some help? I'm sure some of the guys…"

"No, thank you," Kal-El said curtly. "This is a family matter. I don't want to trouble anyone else with it. Just take me off the call list until I get back to you, please. Obviously my family takes priority over everything else."

"Of course," she replied. Kal-El flipped the phone shut, and hung there in midair, eyes closed, straining for the faintest sound of Kala's heartbeat. He knew it as well as Lois' or Jason's, better than the beat of his own heart, in fact. He still couldn't find it anywhere.

He wasn't sure why he had been so brusque with Oracle. Gut instinct told him to get off the phone quickly, and to keep the rest of the JLA out of this. Flying at super-speed had taught Kal-El to trust his intuition, to react instinctively, because he could fly faster than he could consciously _think_ about his route. And for now, that hunch was enough – he didn't want to examine his own motives.

Deep down, Kal-El believed that all of this was _his_ fault, proof of his failures as a father. He'd never felt as though he took naturally to the role; Richard had an instantaneous rapport with most kids, and an easygoing manner that charmed even his own children into confidences. He was much better at fatherhood, in Kal-El's opinion, and the fact that Richard had had three years more practice with the twins didn't matter. Richard surely didn't lie awake at night, worrying over the decisions he'd made that day, wondering if he'd chosen the right path, if he was being a good father, if he was somehow ruining his kids' psyches and lives.

No, Richard just did whatever the heck sounded good to him at the time, whether it was taking the kids to a new museum exhibit or just lying on the roof watching planes go by, and it all seemed to work out perfectly. If he were perfectly honest with himself, Kal-El would've admitted that he envied the other man's nonchalance. In this case, though, he couldn't see that he was over-thinking the whole situation, worrying far too much.

Kal-El had forgotten his own father's advice, which he'd accidentally overheard when Ma was fretting over his teenage years. "He's fine," Pa had said with a chuckle. "Lord, when I was his age, I was into _everything_. Me and a few of the gang decided to sneak into Ellzey's orchard for a lark one time. We didn't know old man Ellzey kept a 410 shotgun loaded with rock salt – _wow!_ I had to eat standing up for a week. And I never told my pa, 'cause he'd have whupped me on top of it. Other boys we knew were playing cowboys and Indians with real bows and pellet guns, shootin' each other. But we all survived and turned out mostly right, for all our foolishness. Clark will be fine – kids are resilient."

Kal-El sighed heavily, and headed back down into the subways to continue the search.

…

"Have you seen this girl?" Cat Grant asked, flashing her winning smile – and a little cleavage – at the ticker seller. He leaned forward, peering through the glass window, and the blonde held her breath. Maybe this time…

"Nah," the young man said. "I'd've remembered her. Sorry."

"Thanks anyway." Cat gave him a sad smile and slid her business card through the slot in the window. "If you _do_ see her, please call and tell me which bus she got on? She's only sixteen, and her family's worried sick."

He assured her he would, and Cat left to go meet up with Ian, who'd also been pressed into the search. Every one of Lois' family and friends was out looking; according to the gossip from WGBS the last time Cat had called in, a certain cape-wearing friend had even taken up the search.

No one was talking about what might happen if they _couldn't_ find Kala. Could a sixteen-year-old girl really manage to hide from a bunch of reporters and cops – _and_ a superhero who'd never quite gotten over her mom? It didn't seem possible.

But it was happening. They should've found a lead by now, and so far, _nothing_. Ignoring the chill that skittered down her back, Cat hurried to Ian's side, hoping he'd learned something.

"Just heard from Richard White," he said, flipping his phone closed. "He's in the search, too – had to leave his wife home, but her assistant's on it. They're taking three of our subway stations, so we can head further south."

"Poor Richard," Cat murmured, frowning slightly. "He must be frantic – and Lana too. But they can't exactly leave Kristin, and Kala _might_ just go to Lana. She gets along better with her than she does with her mother."

"How'd that happen?" Ian asked, as they headed out of the train station. Between them, they'd shown Kala's photo to every ticket-seller in the place. "I mean, she likes her stepmom better than her mom?"

"It's not a matter of who she likes. Kala loves Lois, you'd better believe it, and no one will ever take her place. But you can't have two women that strong-willed in the same house without them fighting." Cat chuckled a little, and added, "Trust me on that. I used to share an apartment with Lois and Tobie. You think they squabble _now_…"

"Must've been interesting," Ian said, and placed his hand gently on the small of her back as they went out the doors. The wind had picked up, and its icy fingers found their way down collars and up cuffs. Cat shivered from more than just the temperature; without another word, she and Ian hurried to their next destination.

…

Jason stood staring out the French doors, a post he had taken up some time ago and showed no sign of leaving. Every line of his body spoke of utter misery. His voice was low, emotion flooding the slightest word. "It's gonna snow tonight. I hope…"

Standing beside him, Giselle could only watch him worriedly, rubbing his shoulders. "She'll be okay," she whispered, trying to comfort. "She's got money for a hotel room – assuming we don't find her first, which we might." She had stayed by his side through every moment.

Lois had been making a third pot of coffee when she overheard them, needing something to do so she didn't slowly go mad. She couldn't think of her daughter out there alone, thinking she wasn't wanted, knowing that she wasn't protected. Why had that stupid fight have to happen last night? And why did Kala have to be so damned willful? Especially since Luthor was slinking around? Her blood ran cold at that thought and she turned her thoughts away from that one, forcing herself to focus on something else. "Any news?" she asked Maggie, knowing full-well she'd never heard the phone go off.

"Nothing yet. They're still searching," the policewoman replied, glancing at her phone. Both of them were aware that the phone hadn't rung, but the notion consoled Lois, so neither of them spoke of it. "No word yet from the folks on foot; either she's still in town, or we missed her. Any idea where she might go if she does leave the city?"

Lois had paused in her attention to the coffee to place her hands over her face, rubbing her temples brusquely. It was clear that the day was wearing on her. "Clark called Martha and Ben. I didn't have the guts; how do you call and tell someone that their only granddaughter's run off?" She gave a sigh that spoke of heartache and regret, expression hidden, before continuing in a tired voice. "They're gonna warn the Langs and the Carmichaels. I had Richard call his parents, too – I can't see Kala going down to Florida, but she might do it just because I wouldn't expect it."

Sawyer leaned back in the dining chair she had commandeered, pensive as she considered the evidence in front of them. "It's a bitch hunting down someone who knows how you think."

Lois groaned then, dropping her hands to glare at her with wounded aggravation. _God, not this again_. "_Please_, Mags. If I never hear anyone say how much alike we are again… That's what started all this mess."

This was one of those times when the length of their friendship was apparent, simply in the way that the cop didn't react to her friend's attitude. Maggie knew Lois well enough to know that it was just her guilt talking. "I didn't say you were alike," Maggie replied evenly. "Just that you both know how the other thinks. Living together for sixteen years will do that to _anyone_, not just mother and daughter. Anyway, the whole point is that she knows exactly where and how you'd look for her."

"Thanks, Mags." The four teenagers winced at the sharpness of Lois' tone. "Just what I need to hear this late in day. That totally helps. Thanks."

Jason sighed, his expression fraught at his mother's obvious anxious state and his own helplessness. The boy allowed Giselle to lead him back to the couch then. He sat down as if the weight of the world were crushing him. No one saw the pained way Elise watched him.

"She's also sixteen, and no matter how gutsy she is or how much money she has, Kala's not prepared to live on her own," Maggie pointed out, not missing a beat. "Sooner or later, she'll go to _someone_ for help. And once she gets the message that we're all worried about her, she'll come home."

Lois snorted, her shoulders tense; Clark was out searching, and with _his_ powers, he should've found their daughter by now. Hadn't he told her he could recognize the kids' heartbeats just as easily as Lois' own? So why the hell were their depressing speculations not being suddenly interrupted by a sheepish Kala dropped onto the balcony by Superman?

Bagel, who had never been able to tolerate tension among the humans in her family, had at first hidden under furniture. As silence fell on the group while they apprehensively waited for replies, the beagle wandered into the living room, her forehead wrinkled into a fretful expression and her tail wagging restlessly. Jason seemed the most distraught of all, but he was leaned forward, his head cradled in his hands, and she couldn't jump into his lap. In the end, desperate to comfort her boy, Bagel settled for Giselle's lap instead, giving the girl a couple of anxious (and quite unappreciated) licks around the mouth before snuggling up to Jason's side. She managed to wedge her nose under his arm, and from there wiggled most of her body into his lap.

Having Bagel demand attention was enough to make Jason look up finally. His expression was determined as he rumpled the beagle's ears, letting out a long sigh. "Aunt Maggie, there's gotta be something we can do," he said then, facing her sadly.

Sawyer stared at him with a thoughtful expression, not saying a word. She seemed to be considering something. "There is, actually," the policewoman said after a moment, and all four kids perked up. "If she's still in town, she'll eventually go back to some place she's familiar with. I bet you all know those spots, right?"

That was enough to bring Jason back to himself, the boy already moving toward the door. "Yeah. So we should hit Fuel first…"

But the policewoman blocked him before he could go out, moving with surprising speed. "Whoa, son. First of all, play it subtle. You don't want to spook her out of her normal habits – this is a teenage girl we're dealing with, not a hardened criminal, but she's _smart_. Just leave messages with the staff that you need to talk to her, all right?"

"Sounds good," Sebast opined. Elise was standing up now as well, both kids looking serious and determined. Being able to help and not just sit around worrying and waiting had energized them. Becoming more animated by the moment, the Latino boy glanced at all those present. "Let's go in pairs, so if we see her, one can sneak off and call you guys while the other stalls for time. Elise, you're with me."

Sawyer nodded her approval. "Smart boy."

"Listen," Jason said, and then hesitated. He looked down at his interlaced fingers, sighed again, and forced himself to meet the adults' eyes. "Sebast, Elise, when you leave the message, tell her she needs to call me because … I have to keep the Gertrude promise, and what she's done won't let me."

The whole group looked at each other. "The Gertrude Promise?" Giselle said suspiciously. "What's that, twin code?"

"Yes," Jason said simply, and looked at Lois. She'd gone pale and her brow was furrowed with a mother's pain; the only Gertrude in the twins' lives was Luthor's damn yacht. Whatever promise the twins had made to each other, it was serious.

"Mind cluing me in?" Maggie asked, her gaze going from mother to son. She also remembered _The __Gertrude_, and how fiercely protective the twins had been of each other after their ordeal.

Never taking his eyes off his mother, Jason answered in a low voice, "We promised we'd never let anyone separate us, and we'd never keep secrets from each other." He straightened up, and for a moment he looked so much like his father that Lois' hand went over her mouth, her heart leaping in her chest. "I can't keep her safe if I don't know where she is."

Sebast watched Jason, eyeing his friend warily. "So let's go. It's getting late and we only have a few hours before sundown. We've all got our phones; Mom, Inspector, call us if you get word. Jason, come on. Let's get moving."

"You do the same," Maggie responded. She waited until the kids all left, Jason last and giving his mother one final pained look that she'd returned with an encouraging smile, before she turned to Lois with a worried expression. "We're pretty much canvassing the city. There's only one downside to that. Lois, I hate to say it, but if anyone's listening for word of your family, they're gonna know she's out there alone."

They both knew the 'anyone' in that statement was Luthor. "He hasn't bothered me since," Lois' voice was husky when she said this, not willing to meet Maggie's eyes. "Hopefully she'll be home before he even catches word."

"She's not six anymore, Lois," Maggie said with deliberate firmness, "and we both know that she's not exactly helpless." The reporter had to smile a little at the irony of her friend's statement. Maggie wasn't talking about the powers either, not being aware of the twins' dual heritage. Jason and Kala had both taken martial arts classes for a while when they were thirteen, mostly to teach them self-discipline, but they'd eventually dropped out. Friends of the family had been told that their other extracurricular activities conflicted with the classes, but the real reason was the twins' developing powers. By the time they were fourteen, it was no longer safe for either of them to spar with other students or instructors. Still, those lessons hadn't been forgotten, and offered an additional layer of protection.

Knowing that didn't stop Lois from feeling chilled. She'd crossed her arms a while ago, hands clasping her elbows, and now she shivered. Maggie put a hand on her shoulder, offering wordless comfort. Jamie had run away from home a few times in her teens, usually leaving her father's house to try and get to her mom. Maggie understood the soul-deep horror of not knowing where your child was. Unfortunately, she was already doing everything she could think of to find Kala.

…

After sending Richard and Kay off into the search – her assistant had volunteered the moment she heard the news, but Lana still felt guilty about it – the redhead had racked her brain to think of places where Kala might go. Most of the extended family had been notified, thanks to Maggie, who had called Tobie first and put her in charge of setting up the civilian searchers. Richard had called Perry only to find out he'd already been informed.

All of that activity had greatly intrigued Kristin, and now the little girl stood looking at Lana worriedly. "How come everybody's callin' us?" she asked with honest curiosity.

Lana bit her lip; the phone had been ringing pretty much continuously with updates, and Kristin wasn't used to that. Not hearing from her big sister was also weighing on her, and Lana sighed with the realization that she'd have to tell her daughter _something_. "C'mere, sweetheart," she said, and seated them both on the couch.

"It's somethin' bad," Kristin said knowingly, studying her mother's face. "You an' Daddy haven't been smilin'."

"It's … complicated," Lana began, taking a deep breath. How could she make her little girl understand? "Listen, Kala got in trouble last night."

"I 'member." Kristin snuggled closer to Lana's side, tilting her head back to look up at her.

"Well, Kala and Lo-Lo got in a big fight," Lana made herself go on, hastening to add, "mostly because Lo-Lo was scared, not knowing where Kala was that late at night. They both got mad and they yelled at each other."

Kristin was nodding slightly, her look somber. "Kala likes t' make Lo-Lo mad," she whispered. "She thinks it's funny sometimes. Sometimes I think it's funny too, but mostly not."

And knowing how Lois was about being made to feel stupid, it was no wonder tempers had eventually flared. "Sometimes they are funny," Lana agreed. "But a lot of times it's kind of mean. They don't want to be mean to each other, but sometimes it just … happens."

Kristin's commentary on that was made clear by her stormy little frown. "That's dumb. They should be nicer to each other."

"I'll tell them you said so," Lana replied. "Anyway, Kala got so mad she decided she needed a vacation. But she didn't tell anybody where she went."

"Kala went on vacation without me?" Kristin whimpered, her eyes filling with tears. "But…"

"Honey, she didn't take _anyone_," Lana soothed, hugging her closer. "Not even Jason." That fact silenced the little girl, both redheads reflecting on how inseparable the twins usually were. Once, when Kala had gotten into a fight at school and been punished by not being allowed to go to the zoo that weekend, Jason had intentionally failed a spelling quiz so he would be forced to stay home, too.

"Everyone's trying to find Kala," Lana said gently when she felt Kristin cuddle closer and sniffle. "She might even come here. So we just have to wait and hope."

Kristin clearly didn't like that idea, but she was young enough to still believe that her mother knew best. Her anxiety was all too clear in the way she clung to Lana for a hug, though, and the designer snuggled her as much for Kristin's comfort as for her own.

…

Giselle struggled to keep up with Jason's long stride, pulling the collar of her jacket tighter against the cold. She didn't dare ask him to slow down; the Jason she'd known since the beginning of the school year would've acquiesced immediately, but this wasn't the same boy. Her Jason would never have yelled at her the way he'd done earlier. Tried to mediate between her and that meddling hussy Elise, sure, but yell at them both? A day ago Giselle would have said it couldn't happen. Now she saw a different side of her boyfriend, and it made her a little wary … and a little intrigued.

This new Jason seemed to be a more interesting prospect than the sweet, serious, slightly shy boy she'd been dating. He was more single-minded and determined than she would have guessed he could be, facing into the icy wind as if he couldn't feel it. And when they got to their first stop, Jason took the lead and began questioning the clerk at the book store. Giselle hung back and listened to his low, persuasive voice, noticed the intensity of his gaze and the tension in his muscular shoulders, and she began to worry.

This was a young man – she couldn't properly call him a boy, even if she was certain no woman had made a man of him yet – who was wholeheartedly, unswervingly devoted to his twin. In his concern for Kala, he'd almost forgotten Giselle was there. Her stomach began to churn slowly; what would he do if he found out _she'd_ been the one to start the rumors? All the nasty, vicious things Kala had said and done to her would be forgotten, and Giselle herself would become the enemy.

She swallowed, her throat making a dry click, and grabbed them both some hot chocolate to keep going. If she had any hope of redeeming herself, she'd have to be twice as devoted to this search as Jason was.

Just at that moment, her phone rang. "Mom?" she answered. Jason took the hot chocolate with a preoccupied air and headed out, forcing Giselle to trot after him with the phone pressed to her ear.

"How are things going?" the voice on the other end asked.

"We're still looking for her," Giselle replied. "Jason and I are checking the places she usually hangs out."

"Tell him I wish you both luck. When do you think you'll be in this evening?"

"I'm not sure," Giselle said with real worry, watching her boyfriend carefully. "Late, probably. Can you pick me up?"

"I'll be busy. Something came up at work – I'd be helping you all, otherwise. But you can call Taya if you need a ride."

"Okay. I'll call you if we get a good lead, Mom."

"Good girl," Justine said, and the two hung up with their usual brief goodbyes. Giselle almost had to run to catch back up to Jason, and she dedicated herself to keeping pace with him for the rest of the search.

…

They'd barely gone three blocks before Elise stopped and turned to Sebast with an expression of curious concern. "It's not like I can't tell that you're freaked out by more than just Kala lighting out on us. Are you pissed at me? Because all I did was keep a secret like she told me to. I didn't even know for sure that she wasn't going to tell you."

Sebast stopped to look her in the eye. From the way those gray eyes watched him, Elise clearly thought he would be within his rights to place the blame on her. He sighed then, coming forward to hug her. "No, I'm not mad at you," Sebast replied most sincerely, putting an arm around her shoulder and making her walk with him. "But I _am_ mad at the psychotic little bitch that made me think Kala had gone and _slept _with this Nick guy." Elise raised an eyebrow as he continued, "I'm also pissed at myself, for being dumb enough to _believe_ that shit. I know Kala. She thinks she's too good for just about anyone – except me, of course, but that's a whole other issue."

Elise couldn't help snickering at that last line. Kala did tend to brush off most guys as unworthy; even the ones she dated rarely got to stay with her longer than a few weeks. And none of them had gotten more than a kiss, if they were lucky and she was feeling generous. On the other hand, Sebast and Kala had taken a six-week Latin dance course after school and learned the rudiments of tango, salsa, and rumba, just so they could incorporate some of the moves into their club dancing. Elise had heard that they were almost kicked out of a teen club. Maybe his assertion that she considered him the only man good enough for her was partially true.

"I shouldn't have believed that slut," Sebast muttered. "Now she's gonna be spreading that rumor _everywhere_ as soon as we go back to school."

Her confusion was written all over her face when she glanced at him. "So why didn't you say who it was? I mean, whoever she is, Jason's gonna want to have words with her. And I might round up some of Kala's girlfriends and kick her gossipy ass once this is all over."

Sebast looked at her, rolling his dark eyes. "Like I was gonna say something while the two-faced _mosquita muerta_ was sitting _right there_, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I swear she's sucked out Jason's brain – he wouldn't believe me even if I told him."

That opened those gray eyes wide. Confusion gave way to absolute disbelief. "_Giselle?!_" Elise exclaimed, trying not to yell. "It was Giselle? Oh my God, I knew she hated Kala, but I didn't know how much! Is she out of her mind? He's going to kill her!"

"Giselle," Sebast confirmed. "And she fed me a good enough line that I actually bought it. More fool me – if I was a really good friend, I wouldn't have approached Kala like I did when I talked to her." The look on his face made it clear how angry he was with himself.

Furious, Elise crossed her arms. She should have expected as much, with all of the duplicity she had seen the other girl show to other people at school. It shouldn't have come as any surprise, but it had to be stopped. Immediately. "So, how and when are we gonna tell Jason?"

"That's just the thing. We can't. What good would it do? He'll think we just hate her, like everyone else." It obviously annoyed Sebast to say it, his eyes narrowed.

Elise scowled, but he had a point. "I'll tell you one thing," she said after a moment. "When we find Kala, I'm telling _her_. Not only will she believe it, she'll give us ringside seats when she gets her revenge."

"Damn right. See, this is why I missed you, Elise," Sebast stated with a fond smile, and then they were at the coffee shop Kala frequented. "Let's find our girl."

…

As night fell, the search had to be called off. Every train station, airport, and subway station had already been checked by a small army of family, friends, and police officers. They'd started on hotels next, and managed to get to most of the ones Lois thought Kala might go to. All the better hotels had been checked, and the concierges had copies of a photo of Kala.

It didn't seem likely that Kala would take a room in a cheap motel; she was accustomed to certain standards, and no one expected to find her in the $30-a-night fleapits. By ten o'clock, Maggie had to call the searchers in; Lucy had actually passed out, the result of spending too many hours on her feet in the cold. The rest of the searchers were bordering on exhaustion, and Lois and Maggie had come to the reluctant conclusion that Kala was either with Nick Powell, or she'd gotten out of the city without somehow leaving a trail for them to follow.

Lois knew that would be terrifyingly easy for her daughter to do. Kala could run as fast as a car; she didn't have her father's endurance yet, but when she wanted to she could cover some serious distance. Knowing that, Lois had reluctantly agreed to end the search. The kids also had to be called off; none of them wanted to quit, but Sebast was asleep standing up and Elise had gotten blisters from running around in boots. They had only acquiesced when Maggie bullied them into going home, then made a point of calling Clark and harangued _him_ into coming home. The police would keep an eye out for Kala tonight – as a minor, hers was declared a missing-persons case as soon as Lois called Maggie, instead of having to wait twenty-four hours like they would have had to do for an adult.

Clark remembered to appear at the front door, and Lois had never seen him so weary and bedraggled. The devastation shining in his eyes told her that he'd searched everywhere, _everywhere_, and found not a trace of Kala. Maggie hugged him and Lois both before she left. "We'll take up the search at first light," the policewoman said. "Try to get some sleep."

Lois uttered a short laugh; tired as she was thanks to last night's fitful sleep on the couch, sleep seemed to be impossibility. Still, she had to try and rest for tomorrow's search; maybe by then they would have some actual leads. The police were still sorting through all of the possible permutations of the name Nick Powell, and by tomorrow a full day's shift of hotel and transportation staff would have heard about the missing girl. Sighing, Lois headed up the hall to the master bedroom.

Kal-El followed without a word. Last night's argument hadn't vanished from their memories, but it assumed far less importance in light of Kala running away. Lois hesitated in the bedroom door, turning back to look at Kal-El. "I should check on Jason," she murmured. Anxiety and exhaustion were battering at her brain, but she had to make sure _one_ of her twins was safe.

"He's fine," Kal-El said quietly, and the rusty tone of his voice spoke eloquently of his exhaustion. He had flown over most of the eastern seaboard, listening intently, and hadn't stopped for a sunbath in three days. Somehow he summoned the energy to continue, "Jason's in Kala's room with Bagel. He's already asleep, or close to it."

Lois nodded; she wanted to go to her son, but if he was close to drifting off, she'd rather let him get the rest. She headed into their bedroom, pulling her blouse off and dropping it onto a chair.

Kal-El flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness, and Lois heard the rustle of fabric from his side of the bed. She finished getting undressed and went to her chest of drawers for a nightgown…

…when suddenly Kal-El was behind her, his arms around her, his face buried in her hair. She stiffened for an instant, last night's rash words still hanging between them, finally relaxing against him with a tiny sigh of relief when no words were said. For a long moment, he just stood there in the blackness, holding her, and Lois let herself lean on him for strength.

Just about the time Lois began to think that they should go ahead and get in bed, even if neither of them had any chance at sleep, Kal-El nuzzled in and kissed the back of her neck firmly. Lois shivered; he knew exactly where the sweet spot was. She whispered his name, and he nibbled her nape, his hands sliding down her stomach.

Lois turned in his arms, reaching blindly for his face in the darkened room. She drew him down to her and kissed him, kissed him long and hungrily while his strong hands kneaded the muscles of her back and shoulders. They both wanted this comfort, this escape; no words were necessary, hands and hips spoke eloquently in the dark.

Kal-El led her to the bed, and the warmth of his touch set her body afire. For a little while, at least, they could both forget their failures and the trials that faced them. He kissed her as if he would devour her, his mouth greedy on her shoulders, her breasts, the soft curve of her belly and the swell of her hip. Lois tangled her fingers in his hair, bringing him up to her so she could return those desperate kisses, flick her tongue along the pulse in his throat and nip at his collarbone.

He rolled her under him and Lois' legs came up around his waist without hesitation, her teeth clenched so as not to wake Jason – he wouldn't understand this at all, would've thought them uncaring, vulgar in their disregard. But it was _because_ they loved Kala, loved her and couldn't bear the pain of not knowing where she was, that they sought refuge in each other. In grief, in love, in sympathy with each other's failings and ashamed of their own, Lois and Kal-El came together again.

She couldn't help crying out softly, back arching with the extremity of it, and a moment later he shuddered as he reached the pinnacle with her. Lois collapsed against the mattress, feeling his weight fall on her just the slightest as they both tried to catch their breath. Her body and mind were just starting to relax, the reporter thinking she might just be able to sleep now if she took a Tylenol PM … when she felt Kal-El's lips against the curve of her neck, and he began to rock his hips gently against her in a way that made her eyes roll back again. Giving a helpless whimper, Lois rose to meet him frantically; twice was not unusual for them, and if the first round had helped her forget the dilemma they were in, the second might help her let go of the feeling that it was all her fault.

When he finally let her rest, they had managed a third time and Lois' mind had temporarily forgotten everything but the man who held her. So emotionally and physically exhausted that she slipped easily into sleep with a soft murmur of love, she was only vaguely aware of Kal-El snuggling up to her. He himself lay awake only a few minutes longer than she did, unable to remember the last time he'd felt this tired. Things would, had to, look better in the brightness of daylight.

* * *


	22. Fast Approaching Free Fall

**Sorry it's late today, guys. Poor__**** saavikam77** is sick and miserable, so everyone send her a little love. I hope you feel better, Ella. *smooch and snuggle* And thanks to **_rizny_ for the emergency read-over, just in case.**

Well, this is it. This is the chapter you've been waiting for. It's all go from here. The adventure starts now. :D

* * *

"I'll be in touch. Keep up the surveillance, and contact me immediately if our concerns are jeopardized." Mercy Graves' eyes were calm, the blonde braid down her back neat, her voice steady. Her hands went on with their competent work, loading bullets into a spare magazine.

Hope drew the edge of a knife along the sharpening block, and studied it in the harsh fluorescent light. "I suppose I'm handling our agent, too?" she said in an idle tone.

"Of course." Mercy glanced at the other woman. Hope was much like her, the only differences between them superficial: skin tone, hairstyle, and facial features. Beneath the surface, the similarities began: muscle tone, the grace and poise of a trained martial artist, and a certain ruthlessness of character at the core. Mercy privately thought that Hope was a little softer than herself, occasionally disinclined to do the job at hand for some silly ethical reason. Those lapses were very few, of course, or Hope wouldn't be working for Luthor.

The blonde, however, had no such concerns. She had risen from just another chemist at Luthor's lab to become his right hand – she ran L-Tech, supervised the scientists at the research facility, headed security for the corporation and the lab, and was Lex's personal bodyguard. Mercy couldn't have gotten to this position if she allowed moral concerns to hold her back. "I should be back in two or three days. Keep a close watch on our agent, too."

Hope started to look interested. "Getting fractious?"

"You could say that." With that, Mercy left without further word. Hope knew her job, and would do it without supervision, including all the contingencies. Mercy could concentrate on getting back to Luthor with her prize.

…

When Kal-El's eyes opened the next morning, the memory of the previous day's events returned to him immediately, reminding him of what he was now faced with. A quick check of the house with his super-hearing revealed the surprise that both his wife and son were already awake, and the non-surprise that Kala hadn't come home on her own. Guarding himself against the sinking feeling he already felt, Kal-El dragged himself out of bed and through the routine of getting showered and dressed. In the uniform this time – he had to look for his child.

He had no more than stepped into the living room when Lois turned toward him with the phone in her hand, her face alive with nervous energy. "Mags, I'll call you right back," she said, cutting short her conversation. "Superman just checked in." He could feel her hazel eyes running over him worriedly. As she put the phone back in its cradle, Kal-El noticed the cigarette in her other hand. It was only to be expected – nicotine was Lois' chosen vice in stressful situations. The way she had been fidgeting with the locket so much yesterday, he'd half expected the chain to break; smoking would be the next step. At least she'd opened the French doors to let the smoke blow out, in spite of the snow on the balcony.

He saw a flicker of dismay go over her features before she started toward him, the slight shadows under her eyes not yet hidden by any cosmetics. It was clear that Lois was still exhausted, but the rest had brought back some of her usual fire. "_You_, get your ass up there," she said, her voice all too serious when she jabbed a finger toward the ceiling. "I don't want to see you for at least an hour. Got it?"

Kal-El blinked, on the verge of being offended – didn't she realize that he'd run himself ragged? In the next second, Lois must have seen the look on his face. She came up to him and put her arms around him, holding the cigarette away from him awkwardly. She stayed silent for a moment before murmuring softly against his shoulder. "Go on, hero. Soak up some rays. I doubt anything will change while you power up. And I've known you long enough to know you'll drop over if you don't."

After everything that had happened, she was still worrying about _his_ condition. New Year's Eve seemed like a bad dream, the harsh words they'd spoken to each other impossible in the light of her concern and his gratitude. Kal-El hugged her tightly, whispering his love for her, and then flew.

High above Metropolis, the thin atmosphere allowed more of the sun's rays to soak into him. Kal-El nearly wept with relief, turning his face up toward the golden orb above. Oh, how he'd needed this. Kal-El began to feel whole again, the tension easing from his muscles even as the fatigue faded away. He hovered there for almost the full hour before his sense of duty began to nag him.

Zooming back down to the city, Kal-El turned his hearing toward his own apartment. Sebast had come by, and Inspector Sawyer was there as well. Judging that Lois and Jason were safe and preoccupied, he resumed his search. This time, he flew slowly along the city's streets, his eyes almost closed, listening intently for Kala's heartbeat or voice.

…

Martha made the second pot of coffee of the day, looking worriedly out across the fields. She wasn't sure Kala would come here – it would be very hard for the girl to travel this far alone and undetected, even with her father's super-speed, but it wasn't impossible. Martha remembered when Clark was that age; he'd been a blessedly biddable child, but in his teenage years he'd had some moody spells. Sometimes he'd go out and just run, as if his adolescent anxieties might lose track of him if he were fast enough.

She could hope that was what Kala was doing, hope that the girl would show up _somewhere_ after a night alone. But Martha had the sinking feeling that she should direct her prayers toward her granddaughter's safety, first and foremost.

"She'll come home," Ben said quietly. Martha startled a little; she hadn't heard him enter the room. As always, he knew her mind. He stood behind her chair, and rubbed her shoulders softly. Years of work and the onset of arthritis had callused and gnarled his hands, but his touch was warm and comforting. "She's a good kid, Martha. She'll come home soon enough."

Martha sighed, leaning back. Having to hide the truth from Ben was so bitter – if only she could have told him all the reasons she feared for Kala, but that would mean explaining Clark, and too many people already knew _his_ secret. Luthor alone was one too many. Richard and Lana could be trusted, of course, but Martha had always worried. If they could figure it out, then who else had guessed? Who else knew her boy wasn't from this earth? And who else knew his children had a secret heritage, one that would make them very interesting to the wrong kind of people?

Ben would never do anything to harm Clark or his family … but Ben had two sons, and he might feel he could trust them with the secret. And they might trust their wives. And eventually, someone somewhere would go to the newspapers or the government, and Clark would never be safe again. No, it was better not to tell anyone else.

Even if it meant that Martha could share her life and her love with Ben, but not her pain, not her deepest fears. She caught his hand and kissed his knuckles softly. "I'm sure you're right," she whispered.

…

"He did what?" Dinah said, leaning forward in her chair. This wasn't a scheduled meeting, just a gathering of the JLA members who happened to be in the Watchtower at the time, with the understanding that they'd spread the news to the rest of the team. Even knowing that, Dinah hadn't been prepared for what she'd just heard.

"Told Oracle to take him off the roster," J'onn replied. "And refused our assistance in finding his daughter."

"Clark's lost it," Wally muttered, looking at the others in honest surprise. "Why wouldn't he want our help?"

It was Bruce who shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We're going to do what we can to help him anyway."

They all gave him a cautious look. None of them had ever heard Superman give any member of the team the brush-off, and very few people were short-tempered with Oracle. If Clark was in that bad of a mood – understandable given the circumstances, of course – only Bruce would blatantly ignore his request. It was Dinah who spoke up at last. "Okay. I'm with you on that, Bruce. If anyone deserves our help in personal matters, it's Clark. But why are you so vehement?"

"Because it's probably not a personal matter anymore. She's been gone since yesterday morning – I made a few calls – and _he_ can't find her. Someone had to have kidnapped her."

Diana wore a thoughtful look. "But Kala is _Superman's_ daughter. Who could have taken her against her will?"

The look that the cowled man gave her suggested that she should have known the answer. "She's not a full-blooded Kryptonian," Bruce reminded them all. "She's half human, too. Lois gave her partial immunity to kryptonite, but Kala doesn't have all of Clark's invulnerability or his strength."

"So she could've been taken," Dinah murmured, nodding.

Again, Bruce spoke up. "Any one of us, even Clark, could be captured, if someone put enough thought into it." He would know; he planned for all contingencies, including the unlikely event of the JLA members needing to be taken down. "Kala's just a kid. If she were running around on her own, we'd know about it by now. She's got some of her father's powers and all of her mother's instinct for getting in trouble."

"You have a point." The Amazon was starting to sound as concerned as Bruce seemed to feel. "Even if Kala hasn't been kidnapped, we still must try to find her. With Clark's powers, even at half strength, she could easily get into the kind of trouble only we can get her out of."

Wally winced at that. "And if she does, there goes Clark's identity."

"His identity, and Lois' career," Bruce added. "The press doesn't look kindly on Pulitzer-prize-winning reporters who have their story's children."

"All right, whether Clark wants us to or not, I guess we're in the search," Dinah said.

At that, Wally grinned widely at the darkly-dressed man. "In that case, _you_ get to tell him, Bruce."

…

Jamie didn't like the idea of doing unofficial, undercover work for her mom. It somehow sounded immoral, if not illegal, and her classes had taught her a lot about ethics and responsibilities. Had Maggie asked for anything else, Jamie would have refused and claimed a conflict of interest.

But this was about _Kala_, and the young law student learned that abstract notions of justice and fairness can fade quickly when a friend was in danger. Jamie was several years older than Kala, but her respect and fondness for the younger girl knew no boundaries. Kala, after all, was the main reason why Jamie still had a relationship with her own mother.

When Jamie had been about thirteen, and first learned _why_ her parents divorced and that Mom's 'roommate' Tobie was actually something much more personal, she'd reacted badly. Her home town was not the most progressive in the world, and she'd inherited her father's prejudices. Little did she realize that his perspective on the subject was deeply biased by personal pain, and young Jamie had been very, very angry with her mother without understanding her own feelings or her father's.

Maggie had borne that with her typical quiet poise, but Tobie had been wounded. The reporter had always gotten along with Jamie, right up until the moment the girl realized she was Mom's girlfriend. Then it was war, Jamie accusing Tobie of stealing her mother from her father, and calling her a few choice names in the bargain. She'd refused to speak to Tobie from then on, and the reporter had been more than willing to keep it that way. Maggie wouldn't accept the silent treatment from her own child, but it had to have hurt her too.

Jamie remembered those times with a sting of shame. She'd behaved like a little kid, scared of something she didn't understand, and she'd parroted the narrow-minded attitudes of people she'd grown up with. She had never even given her own mother a chance to explain her actions. Kala was the one who'd set her straight.

The two girls had met before, but since Jamie's visits to Metropolis were short and infrequent, they hadn't gotten close. During that awful year when Jamie claimed to hate her mom, Maggie had reluctantly brought her to the annual Independence Day barbecue at the Troupe house. Jamie had sulked, refusing to talk to the other kids (even though Sam was almost her own age), sitting by herself and affecting such a put-upon air that everyone left her alone.

Everyone except Kala. The bossy little brat had gone straight over to her and asked, with a seven-year-old's directness, what was wrong with her. Jamie had sneered to the question. "I don't wanna be seen in public with my mom and her lezzie girlfriend."

She'd expected to have to explain that term to Kala, but the little girl had already heard it. Kala had wrinkled her nose and the disdain in her voice had surprised Jamie, "Mommy says people who call names just 'cause someone's different are fraidy-cats. Especially people who call _those_ kinds of names. She says the whole point of life is learning stuff, and how can you learn if you're so scared you gotta make up nasty names for people?"

"I'm not scared," Jamie had been quick to retort. "It's dirty and nasty and wrong."

"Says who?"

"Says my dad."

"Oh yeah?" Where that statement was usually enough to put an abrupt end to most arguments, this little girl kept pushing, her head titled to the side as she looked Jamie straight in the eye. "Well, my mommy _and_ my daddy say that it's not wrong to love somebody, even if they're a different color or maybe another girl. Plus my daddy's better."

The rebuttal threw a curve ball for Jamie. Most little kids would have either wandered off, bored by her stubbornness or started crying because she was being mean. But Kala showed no signs of either. "My dad read it in the Bible," Jamie had said then, sure of her moral superiority.

Kala had just sniffed. "Aunt Lucy read me a speech that said people are all a little bit different, an' we should all get along 'cause we're more the same than we are different. And being different is okay anyway, because there's lots of different kinds of everything on the planet, lots of fish, lots of trees, lots of birds, so obviously we're not all supposed to be the same, either. Besides, didja know your mom knows Superman? _He_ doesn't call her names, an' he knows Aunt Tobie, too."

Jamie vividly remembered how her jaw had dropped. Confident she'd won the argument, Kala had gotten up and strolled away, and the older girl had been so stunned that she was actually polite for the rest of the day. She'd seen that everyone at the barbecue treated her mother and Tobie just like they treated everyone else. No one made faces when they sat next to each other, Maggie's arm casually around Tobie's shoulders, and even the other kids seemed to take it for granted that the two were a couple just like any other set of parents they knew.

It had been an eye-opener, but not enough to convince a thirteen-year-old that everything she believed was wrong. Jamie had been old enough to look up the articles and see the proof of Kala's claims for herself; her mother had indeed worked with Superman on several occasions, and every police officer Jamie knew respected _him_. That was finally enough to change her behavior; she'd started speaking civilly to both women again, and while Tobie had been very cautious of her for a while, things had ultimately gone back to the way they'd been when Jamie was ignorant of their relationship.

It had been another two years before Jamie had summoned up the guts to confront her mother about her choices, and she'd been surprised to hear Maggie say that she still cared about Jim, and still regretted hurting him. Ultimately, though, she'd felt she had to choose between hurting him and being who she really was, or hurting both of them by living a lie. Jamie had thought about the conversation for a long time before getting her father's version of events, but in spite of the fact that he had never forgiven Maggie, even he had to admit that they weren't always happy in the years before she left. "The best thing in our marriage was you," Jim had told his daughter, echoing Maggie's sentiment.

Though even now, twenty-two and in law school, Jamie was still uncomfortable with the tension between her parents and the outright loathing between Tobie and Jim, she had to admit that if it hadn't been for Kala, she might've stopped coming to visit her mom after that summer. And that would have been a terrible loss; the older Jamie got, the more she realized how much she and Maggie had in common. Not _that_, of course – Jamie had been relieved by her own obvious attraction to men – but a lot of other things, little personality quirks that she shared with her mom.

Even if her friendship with Kala hadn't grown over the years, Jamie would've felt compelled to help in the search for her just because of that long-ago conversation. She had been out yesterday, showing a photo of Kala to transit cops at subway stations. Now they had a lead, and it was up to her to find the guy who might know where Kala was.

His name was Nick Powell, and he was in Jamie's class. The thought of someone her own age dating a high school kid like Kala sent a chill down her spine, though some lawyerly voice in the back of her brain reminded her of all the times she'd remarked that Kala often acted more like a twenty-something than a teenager. Jamie dismissed that thought, and went stalking the creep.

She had a photo of him that Maggie had given her. They'd found several young men with similar names, but this one fit the sparse descriptions given by Elise and Brandon from Fuel, and he went to the university he'd told Kala he attended. He was almost certainly the guy who'd marked Kala's neck, and for that Jamie wanted to find him and kick him where it would hurt.

But doing that would tip him off, and she was only supposed to make sure he didn't go back to his dorm. The moment Maggie had learned he had a private room, she wanted to toss it – but that would be an illegal search. Instead, she'd told _Lois_ which room was his, knowing the reporter would get out her lock picks as soon as Maggie turned her back.

And while she did that, Jamie would keep an eye on Pervert Powell, and text them if he was headed back to the dorm. They had called his room and received no answer, so it was likely that he wasn't in, but not certain. Classes didn't start again for a week, so he could be anywhere. Jamie tried all the obvious places, but Nick wasn't in any of the campus eateries, or the gym, or anywhere else she could think of.

…

Lois heaved the mattress up, feeling along underneath it for any rips that might indicate a hidden stash. Clark sat in Nick's desk chair in the center of the room, head lowered like a bull about to charge, and just glared at his surroundings. For all of their hoping to have this over with, Kala hadn't been there; they'd known that from the moment they arrived, but that didn't mean there weren't clues to be found while Jamie provided a distraction. It seemed like the moment Clark realized they weren't going to find Kala right away, though, he'd sunk into a foul mood.

Meanwhile, his wife was currently struggling with the unexpected weight of the mattress. The mattress which was twice her size and trying to fall on her. After a moment, she turned to glare at him with clear annoyance. "A little _help_ would be appreciated, you know. That is, if you're not too busy being an evil brooding lump of fatherhood there."

"There's nothing in the mattress," Clark responded in a low voice, not moving. "The box spring, either."

At that, Lois let go of the mattress in disgust and let gravity do its work, turning around to cross her arms over her chest, her frustration clear. "You _wanted_ in on this," she reminded him, stepping around the bed to face him. "You wanted to confront the guy. What gives?"

"I thought he might tell us where Kala is." He leaned forward and caught the edge of the mattress with his fingertips, flipping it completely upside down with a single careless gesture. It crashed back onto the box spring, startling Lois. Clark looked at it meditatively, and then added in a carefully controlled tone, "Now that I'm here, I'm worried I won't be able to control my temper."

Lois felt gooseflesh erupt along her arms and spine. For precisely that reason, she'd left Jason at home in the care of Sebast, with Elise and Giselle scheduled to arrive soon after. Faced with the college student who'd been fooling around with Kala, especially considering the rumors Sebast had mentioned, Lois didn't trust her son not to suddenly reveal super-powers by punching Nick through a wall. She just hadn't realized that _Clark_ would have the same problem. He dealt with murderers and rapists without harming a single hair on their heads; he had even set Luthor down carefully when he returned the megalomaniac to prison.

This was his _daughter_, though, and Lois was chilled to realize she should have left him home, too. She and Maggie could handle a college kid; if he needed to be threatened, Maggie had the patented cop snarl and Lois knew a dozen ways to hurt a man that left no marks. But like it or not, Clark was here, and Lois just had to make sure he didn't blow his cover. Not only for the sake of his identity; if Jason lost it and socked the guy, Nick would wind up in the hospital. If _Clark_ did that, they'd recover Nick's body from somewhere in the Pacific Ocean … or worse, one angry look would vaporize the college student right where he stood.

She had no idea how much time they had before the boy came home, but Lois knew she'd have to redirect his attention if she wanted this to work. "Clark, honey, come on," she whispered, standing next to him and hugging him briefly against her side. "He didn't hurt her; if he had, we both know she would've kicked his ass halfway to Canada. Here, help me check his desk…"

…

Getting more frustrated by the minute, Jamie headed back toward the dorms, ready to tell her mom that the guy was off campus. That was when she saw him, striding across the green with his head down and shoulders hunched. He was even wearing the same coat as in one of the pictures Maggie had been able to scrounge up.

And he was less than five minutes from walking into his dormitory, and probably tripping over Lois. Jamie speed-dialed as she caught up to him. Rather than try to have a conversation, she kept the phone in her pocket and called out, "Nick! Nick Powell!" loudly enough for Maggie to hear on the other end of the line. That would have to be enough.

He turned, and Jamie had a moment to think that at least Kala had good taste. Tousled blond hair, cleft chin, strong jaw, high cheekbones, nice eyes, hint of a tan even in winter … the very definition of a golden boy. Had she met him under any other circumstances, Jamie would have been coy and flirtatious around him.

Right now, though, she had to suppress the urge to throttle him. She forced herself to smile, knowing most young men got a little tongue-tied in her presence. Not this one, though. "Yeah?" he said, his tone sharp.

"I need to talk to you," Jamie said, and gave him her name as well. She'd expected a lot of different possible reactions, but grumpy annoyance wasn't one of them.

"What about?" Nick asked. He shifted his weight backward, ready to turn around and walk away; his mind was somewhere else, and Jamie was just an irritation.

She'd been prepared to engage him with questions about his classes, claiming that she'd missed the assignments, or to pretend to have a crush on one of his friends and ask for advice. At worst, she would've flattered _him_, if he could be persuaded to show interest in something other than jailbait. But Jamie realized none of that would work – she was a law student, but also the daughter of two police officers, and her instincts were keen.

Maggie strolled casually around the corner of the building up ahead, letting Jamie know that if Nick tried to run, he'd find himself in deep trouble. With that reassurance, Jamie gambled everything. "It's about Kala," she said.

She expected a guilty expression, or an attempt to bluff his way out of the situation. Nick, however, looked relieved and excited. "You've seen her?" he said. "I've been trying to get in touch with her since yesterday – she hasn't been to Fuel, she doesn't even _know_…"

"She ran away from home yesterday," Jamie said bluntly, and Nick's face fell. "She split because her parents grounded her for not making curfew, and for coming home covered in hickies. Know anything about that, Nick?" Jamie took a step toward him as she asked that, not looking behind Nick, where Maggie drifted silently closer.

"Ah, shit," Nick sighed, and finally looked embarrassed and guilty. "I knew that was a bad idea… But wait, she ran away yesterday? And no one's found her yet?" He searched Jamie's face worriedly, and she saw the dread in his eyes as he realized why she was looking for him.

"No," Maggie said coldly from right behind him, her hand falling on his shoulder heavily. The young man startled, his eyes going wide. "No one's seen her, not her brother or her best friend, and you're the only other person she would've gone to."

"She's not with me," Nick said. "I spent all of New Year's Eve, most of yesterday and this morning trying to find her!"

"Believe me, I want to hear everything you have to say on the subject," Maggie growled. "But not out here. Move it, kid." With that, she shoved him toward his dorm, keeping one hand on his shoulder just in case he decided to make a run for it.

…

Nick had been in a state of barely-controlled terror ever since he'd heard the unmistakable note of authority in the older blonde's voice. His mind was racing far too fast to make any sense, and his hands shook as he unlocked the door to his room. He'd already stepped inside when he registered the presence of two _more_ people. He tried to stop right where he was, but the woman behind him just pushed him forward into the room. Jamie followed her in and locked the door.

The black-haired woman who faced him with a vicious glare looked enough like Kala that Nick immediately knew who she was: Lois Lane, Kala's mom. And then the man who'd been sitting in Nick's desk chair stood up … and up. Nick swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and muttered, "Oh, shit," under his breath. That was Kala's father, obviously – and Mr. Kent looked ready to tear Nick in half. "I swear I don't know where she is," he said, raising his hands to show empty palms. "I didn't even know she was gone – I thought she just wasn't returning my calls because she was mad about the other night."

Clark spoke up then, and his low, furious voice made the three women move quickly. "She had a right to be angry."

The older blonde quickly got between Nick and Mr. Kent, putting her hand on the man's chest and murmuring, "Sit down, Clark. Right now." He dropped into the chair, but never took his eyes off Nick.

It was obvious that the younger man hadn't been expecting to have this kind of confrontation. And that he had been feeling more than a little guilty over it. "The only thing I did wrong was not get her home by curfew," Nick said pleadingly. "Seriously. The rest of it … I'd never kiss a girl who didn't want me to."

"Yeah, but she's _sixteen_," Jamie snarled behind him. "Or did you know?"

He looked away then, running a hand through his hair in agitation. The answer came out in a sigh. "I knew…"

Meanwhile, the older blonde was walking around the room carefully. The place had been ransacked, but that wasn't even registering with Nick in light of all the other trouble he faced. She ended up beside the overturned bed, where the contents of his desk drawers had been poured out. Nick felt a deeper chill in his gut when she poked through those items with a pen and started to chuckle.

In amongst the usual litter of a college student's desk – spare pens, coins, receipts, notes, crumpled bits of paper, a couple buttons that had popped off his shirts – was a small plastic baggie. Nick groaned as she lifted it with the pen; inside were two old and beaten-up marijuana joints he'd forgotten he even had. "Oh God, you're not gonna call the cops, are you?" he asked, feeling sick.

"No, sweetheart," she all but purred. "I _am_ the cops. Inspector Margaret Sawyer – and Kala's aunt. Know what this means?"

Nick groaned in disbelief and practically collapsed onto the edge of his bed; this was it, his life was over. How had everything today gone so completely downhill? "It means I'm screwed," he said bleakly.

Inspector Sawyer sat down in the room's other chair, leaning forward so he could see the wolfish gleam in her eyes. "It means I can fuck you up, down, and sideways if I want to, little boy," she growled. "How does possession of a controlled substance on top of kidnapping charges sound?"

"Kidnapping?" he yelped, his look incredulous. "Look, I don't _know_ where Kala is! She got out of my car New Year's Eve and I haven't seen her since!"

"And we're supposed to buy that?" That was Lois, sounding just as angry as the cop. Meanwhile, Jamie glared sardonically from the doorway, and Mr. Kent just stared. The man's eyes were practically expressionless now, and Nick had the suspicion that the older man was suppressing a strong urge to punch him in the face.

Under the weight of four pairs of angry eyes, Nick's panic crystallized. He had nowhere to run, no way to escape this, and his only option was to fight back. "Hey!" he snapped. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm just the guy who makes sure your kid doesn't ride the subway by herself. I was looking out for her!"

"And looking out for her means gnawing the hell out of her neck?" Lois shot back.

That hit Nick where he lived, enough so that he decided to set the record straight, regardless of the trouble he was already in. "I didn't mean for that to happen," Nick explained angrily. "I was trying to be a decent guy, take her out to dinner after her performance at Fuel since no one else was there for her, but we started flirting and it just got a little out of hand. Both of us stopped when we realized it was going too far. I didn't hurt her, and I didn't do anything she didn't want me to do."

He looked around at the four of them and realized something else. With a bitter laugh, Nick added, "You have no idea, do you? I mean, it's not like any of you were there with her that night. The girl can _sing_. When I went to Fuel the next day, the club owner told me that _three_ bands want to talk to her. Kala's good – damn good. She had a club full of Goth kids singing along with freakin' Britney Spears, for chrissake."

"Oh, so you had to be the gentleman and take her out for a congratulatory dinner?" Sawyer said softly, ignoring the taunt he'd thrown in there even as she saw Kala's parents look away with a moment's guilt. "Followed by a polite, chivalrous necking session in the back seat of your car?"

Again, Maggie had struck a nerve and Nick responded in kind. "I didn't mean for that to happen! And it was the front seat of the car – Kala's not the kind of girl who gets into the back seat of a guy's car."

Clark spoke for the second time since Nick arrived, once again belying his mild-mannered mien in both words and the level of anger in his gaze. "Before last night, I would've said my daughter isn't the kind of girl who stays out after curfew with a boy this much older than she is. But obviously I was wrong." Only Lois saw the pain that lurked in those words and hated hearing it.

Those words wrenched at Nick, too. "It wasn't her fault. I meant to bring her home on time," Nick said quickly, defending Kala immediately. "I just … _someone_ had to let her know how incredible she was. None of her friends were at the club, I was the only person there who really knew her. And she's really _that_ good. She's going somewhere, one of these days she's gonna have a record deal and a music video on MTV."

Maggie stared at him with implacable ice-blue eyes sharp. "And you want to be able to point at the television some day and say you slept with her, I'd imagine?"

Again, his reaction was too violent and genuine for them to dismiss, the boy going wide-eyed. "_No!_ Jeez, it's not like that! I'm not a creep. I swear to God, I'm not," he pleaded earnestly. "I really like your daughter and I don't want anything bad to happen to her. Please, you've got to believe me."

Sawyer turned to look at Lois, who had been watching him with a mixture of distrustful anger and something that looked like a hurt sort of nostalgia. Feeling eyes on her, the reporter shook her head and gave a sigh. "I hate to say it, but I think he's telling the truth," the dark-haired woman said honestly. Something lingered in her features, something uneasy and a bit regretful.

Telling herself she'd get to the bottom of Lois' uneasiness once this was over, Maggie Sawyer pinned Nick down with her gaze once again. "I think so too," the cop replied, giving Nick a disgusted look that still somehow conveyed the fact that she wouldn't be arresting him … _yet_.

Mr. Kent, however, had other ideas. "If I ever find out you lied to us, you will answer to me," he said, very softly.

Nick's reply was immediate, calming down now and determined to make the gathered group realize that he wasn't the enemy. "Sir, I promise you, I'm telling the truth. I don't know where your daughter is. And if I even had an idea, I'd have been helping you find her right now, regardless of how pissed you'd be."

There was a long moment of tense silence, while Nick felt a trickle of nervous sweat working its way down his spine. Lois finally broke it with a frustrated growl under her breath. "Dammit, another freaking dead end," she swore, raising one hand to rub at the silver locket she wore. "_Now_ where are we gonna look?"

As all four of the searchers fell silent again, trying to think yet again of any place they had yet to canvass, it was the new-found ally who spoke up first. "Have you tried the clubs?" Nick ventured.

Sawyer gave him a somewhat less unfriendly look. "We've had people at every teen club in town, and most of the adult clubs."

"Some of them might not cooperate with police, especially not when Kala ran away, you know."

"Which is why we didn't send cops to ask," Maggie told him. "Her brother and her friends went."

Nick rubbed his temples, trying to think of someplace Kala might be. "Did you get Imperiale?" he asked. "It's an adults-only Goth club, but she might be able to get in without getting carded."

"I showed her photo there," Jamie spoke up. "We hit all the teen clubs, all the Goth clubs, pretty much every place she hangs out."

He sighed again. "And you already got the train stations and the hotels and stuff, I'm sure. Damn."

Nick saw a look pass between Sawyer and Lois. "We need to regroup," the cop said. "Lois, Clark, can I turn your apartment into command central? There are still people out canvassing, but I think we're going to have to rethink our strategy."

"Let's do it," Lois said dejectedly.

"If there's anything I can do to help…" Nick began.

"If we brought you back with us, Kala's brother and her best friend would probably beat you within an inch of your life," Maggie said. "And I don't want to arrest the kids. But if I need you, I'll get in touch."

"Thanks," Nick said. "Let me know what's going on. Please? Even if she doesn't want to hear from me, I need to know Kala's okay."

And that, finally, won a tiny smile from Lois. It wasn't approval, but for the first time since New Year's Eve, Nick felt like his life wasn't spiraling down.

…

Coughing sour fumes, her whole body an unresponsive lead weight from which her consciousness dangled, Kala began to wake. She felt bleary, her eyes refusing to open, everything numb and slow. But a sense of urgency began to percolate through her groggy mind, and she shook her head, trying to force herself back to awareness.

Someone had taken her, drugged her. She remembered that, being grabbed from behind while she walked through the dark subway station, the awful smell of the cloth pressed against her mouth and nose, blackness rising up to swallow her. Rage that she could be taken so easily, kidnapped _again_. Then an unknowable space of time, trapped in troubled dreams. Confused impressions without context: the sting of a needle in her arm, a hiss of air into the mask over her face, sometimes a glimpse of a man in a white lab coat staring down at her, but mostly darkness haunted by an uneven drumbeat she eventually realized was her own heart.

And now this: struggling to regain consciousness and control of her body, weak and dizzy and feeling like a stranger in her own skin. She had the sense of motion, uneasy swinging motion, unlike the feeling of travel over the past … hours? Days? Kala couldn't tell exactly what was real and what wasn't. Coarse laughter was the first sound to penetrate her ringing ears. Then her blurry eyes saw a tile floor passing beneath her. And finally, feeling came back…

…just in time to feel a hand close on her breast and squeeze painfully. _That_ tore the cobwebs from Kala's mind, and she tried to jerk away. She quickly realized several men were carrying her, all of whom were amused by her struggling. One grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her wild hazel eyes to meet his leering gaze. "Hey now, pretty girl, none of that," he chided, wagging a finger under her nose. "We wouldn't want you to get _hurt_, now would we, boys? If you try and fight back, well, accidents could happen."

The others were laughing, and the one with his hand on her chest gave another squeeze for emphasis. For a second, rage blotted out Kala's mind; she had been raised with the notion that no one could touch her like that without her consent. Little did these men know that she had the courage and the strength to enforce it…

Thrashing in their grip, Kala got one leg free and kicked out sharply. Someone groaned, and then both her feet were on the ground and she could fight in earnest. The one who'd spoken to her took a punch that knocked him down, and then Kala turned on the one who'd groped her. He ducked and bent to protect his groin, expecting her to knee him, but that just made it easier for Kala to kick him in face. He, too, went down and didn't get back up.

Other men had come running, someone was yelling, and Kala was surrounded. She was stronger and faster, but she was outnumbered. The drugs hadn't yet worn off entirely, and she was fighting on instinct and anger, no plan but vengeance. In the narrow hallway, her defiant yells and the shouted orders of the men mingled into cacophony that hurt her ears. Her vision was still blurry, and more confused by the speed with which she moved, until the men were just shadowy forms around her at which she struck out wildly. All of it had the feeling of a nightmare, steeped in incomprehensible terror. For all that, Kala was still winning, the men unwilling to come too close to the shrieking fury that only moments ago had been a very pretty, if unconscious, teenager.

A heavy blow fell across her shoulders, and Kala stumbled. It _hurt_, and worse, it threw off the rhythm of the fight. Someone grabbed her arm, and Kala tried to jerk away, but she saw the one who'd struck her out of the corner of her eye, raising his hands. She managed to raise her other arm quickly enough that the blow fell on her wrist instead of her head, but a bolt of pain raced up her arm, leaving numbness in its path. Another man caught the back of her shirt, holding her steady, while the one who'd clubbed her grinned. "Lights out, kiddo," he growled, and Kala saw the police baton he was holding begin to descend toward her head. He seemed to be moving in slow motion, but Kala couldn't move any faster, trapped in despair and pain.

Suddenly the man dropped his weapon, cursing and clutching his hand. "Cease this disturbance at once," a new voice demanded, and to Kala's surprise her captors fell back.

Holding her injured wrist, she drew herself up, glaring at the men furiously in hopes that they would be discouraged from further assault. Only then did she look toward her savior.

He took a few steps toward her, and all the men backed up again. Piercingly intelligent eyes looked at her out of a face Kala had seen in newspapers, and she felt her spine turn to ice. "You do not know me," he said urbanely, with the barest hint of a polite nod in her direction. "I am…"

Kala cut him off, her eyes blazing. "I know precisely who you are, _General Zod,"_ she spat in her most formal Kryptonese. "I am Kala of the House of El."

* * *


	23. The Wintery Shiver of an Ill Wind

Sorry that we're running late, but our exhaustion has been showing, methinks. Thank you again, **saavikam77**, for all of the work that you put in on this one. We really couldn't do without you, see? :D

* * *

It was long past mid-day when the dispirited searchers reconvened at the Kents' apartment, their best lead having fallen flat. The news didn't get any better when they met the kids. All of the phone calls and visits to Kala's usual hangouts had yielded nothing and they were clustered in the kitchen, trying to brainstorm something, _anything_, they could do now. Clark had the car when he left campus, supposedly to confer with Superman, while Lois accepted a ride from Maggie, and thus they were the two who had to tell the kids that Kala wasn't with her mysterious boyfriend.

Lois was trying to remember the last time she had seen Jason so resolute and so absolutely forlorn. Listening to the kids hash out the options left, her eyes just kept going to her son. It hurt to know just how much his emotional equilibrium was off. Worse, there was nothing she could do to erase that look any more than she could stop her own guilt. Maybe if she hadn't flown off the handle. . .

_This isn't __**helping**__, Lois. You can't figure out where she is if you're feeling sorry for yourself. And it's not getting Kala home any faster. Right now the only important thing is having your daughter back with you. You can fall apart and act like a drama queen later._

The voice in her mind was familiar. And the General's Daughter had a point. Grief was for afterwards, once all were present and accounted for. Forcibly grounding herself, Lois squeezed Jason's shoulder before excusing herself. It did her heart good to see those blue eyes come up to hers and give her a tiny smile.

She headed out onto the balcony, hoping the cold air would blow some of the fatalism out of her mind. Maggie followed her, taking a cigarette from the pack in her pocket and lighting it. Lois eyed it, thinking back to when she'd smoked Marlboro Reds – she and the cop had always been bumming smokes off each other, something of a competition.

Before she could make the decision, they both heard the door open and turned to see Tobie and Cat coming to join them. Both looked as low as Lois felt. _Nothing. Neither one got anything_. It was as clear asin the way that they wouldn't look her in the eyes, asin the way they immediately lit up their own cigarettes. And daylight was wasting. In the face of this defeat, Lois bit her lip and then gave in, pawing through her purse for one of her cloves. When Lois exhaled her first plume of smoke, finally Maggie spoke up, asking casually, "So what freaked you out so bad about Mr. Powell?"

The reporter sighed. She' had hoped that no one had noticed her reaction to the boy, but since when had Maggie not had the eyes of hawk? It didn't help that it was complicated. And a part of her past she would have happily forgotten. "He reminded me a little bit of Cameron," she began, not comfortable with the line of questioning at all.

Which was made all more so when Tobie and Cat groaned and shared a bitter look. It was Tobie that said what they were both thinking, "Oh shit, Mags. If that's the case, shoot the boy and do us all a favor."

HerThose hazel eyes cut over at her oldest friends, her expression decidedly surly. "The difference is that this Nick seems like he gives a damn. Even if they were up to whatever bullshit they were up to, he tried to defend her. Which is more than I can say for Cameron back then." Thinking back on those days, she couldn't help a sigh.

Lois could feel the cop watching her as she lazily blew a smoke ring. "There's a story behind this," Maggie said.

"You wanna know my secrets? Ask your wife, and the cackling blonde. The less I have to remember, the happier I'll be." Lois was staring out across the city now. Part of the reasoning was true: Clark could arrive back at any moment, and she didn't want him to see her smoking. The other reason was that it wasn't a time in her life she was particularly fond of.

Unsurprisingly, it was Tobie that spoke first. "Okay, okay, this is a great story," she said, glad of some distraction from their current worries. "So, when me and Cat and Lois were in college, we shared an apartment, right? And Lois never dated, she was practically married to her books."

"While you made up for it by seducing a whole sorority," Cat cut in.

The blonde was swiftly elbowed, the _Star_ reporter frowning at her. "Hey, this is about Lois and Cameron, not about how much of a whore I was back in the day, Cat."

"Yeah, we don't have time to get into _that, _Tobe," Maggie teased.

"Shut up, oh virtuous one. _Anyway_. So this guy Cameron decided to make it his life's mission to get Lois in bed, mainly to save her from the inevitable result of spending too much time around the massive charisma of yours truly."

Cat snickered, and Lois joined in after a moment, but Tobie ignored them to continue. "He somehow managed to sweet-talk her into dating him, and everything was okay for a while. She saw him on weekends only because she was too damn busy during the week, with school and working at the _Planet_."

Cat couldn't resist adding to the tale. "If I remember it right, a class got cancelled midweek, and Lois went to go spend an hour with Cameron. Only she found him in bed with someone else."

"_Two_ someone elses," Tobie corrected. "Obviously, she dumped him. And when he was dumb enough to come by the apartment to apologize, Cat and I beat the shit out of him and fucked up his car. The only reason we never got charged with assault and property destruction of property was he couldn't admit he got his ass kicked by two girls. Plus, I think he knew he deserved it, the cheating little bastard."

Sawyer's eyebrows had been rising steadily through the story, and she shook her head at that last. "I'm so glad you wild pack of heathens has settled down since I started hanging out with you."

"Yeah, you've only had to threaten to arrest us once," Cat said with a smile. Tobie and Lois, who'd been causing that particular disturbance that almost got all three hauled off to jail, just glared at her.

"So, what about Nick triggered all these not-so-happy memories?" Maggie asked, eyeing Lois. The other two, who hadn't met Nick, listened intently.

That one question was enough to sober Lois again. "Well, he's a college guy. Good-looking, pretty sure of himself. And he strikes me as a bit of a player."

Tobie curled her lip. "And our Kala's dating him _why_?"

"Isn't it obvious, Tobie? As much as she hates it: like mother, like daughter. And she has enough problems without adding that to the mix." Lois took another drag off her cigarette, her anxiety in every movement, her right hand fidgeting with the locket around her neck.

"He stood up for her," the cop pointed out. "I agree with you, Lois, he does seem to actually care about her. Doesn't mean I think her seeing someone that much older than her is a good idea, but that's not important right now. What _is_ important is that she's not with him, and if he had any idea where she was, I think he'd tell us."

"Which leaves us with what?" Cat asked.

Sawyer paused to take a drag of her own before admitting, "Not a damn thing. My guys are covering the case as a kidnapping at this point. We'll know if they find anything. Until then…"

There was a pause of silence as they all let the reality of the trail going cold start to sink in. It didn't seem right, not in the case of Kala. It was Lois who broke it with a sigh, exhaling another plume of smoke. "I have an idea," she said quietly, still staring at the skyline. "It's just a hunch, but…"

They all turned to look at her when she trailed off, but Lois had that tight-lipped look they all knew so well. "Go on," Maggie said, watching her curiously, "but call me if you hear anything."

Lois ground out her cigarette and leaving the others on the balcony as she headed inside, only to run into Richard on his way in. He'd gotten Maggie's call to come in, and had heard that their last lead had evaporated. Lois found him ruffling Jason's hair and shaking hands with the other three kids. Seeing her, he immediately pulled her into a hug, and Lois gratefully relaxed against his shoulder with a sigh.

"Lana's at the pediatrician with Kristin," he whispered against her hair. When Lois tried to look up, worried, Richard just held her as she was. "It's okay, Lois. Nothing big; Little K was upset last night and never got any sleep. She already had the sniffles, but now her ear hurts, so Lana took her in." He squeezed Lois again to let her know that the littlest one's troubles weren't her fault, and added, "How're you holding up?"

With a shaky laugh, Lois replied, "I have an idea I want to follow up."

"And Clark's out scanning the skies? Great, I'll come with you. Sounds like you could seriously do with the company."

Lois winced. Considering where her plans were taking her, and the secrets that they could possibly reveal, the last person she wanted with her was her ex. "I'd rather follow this one up alone."

Richard narrowed his eyes at her speculatively. Before he could say anything else, Jason appeared at his mother's side, having heard the discussion and walked away from the other kids. All of whom had been surprised by the way he had abruptly taken leave of them. "No way," he said, and Lois saw her own inflexibility reflected in her son's eyes.

Correction: the _last_ person she wanted with her was her son. This was getting more complicated by the minute. There was no way she wanted Jason to even guess the things that had been happening outside of the apartment lately. Not to mention that fact that three pairs of eyes were now watching them in surprise. "Jason, honey, it may not be safe," Lois began, but he cut her off.

"I'm not letting you go alone. Dad's not here, and if I hadn't left Kala alone…"

"It's not your fault," Richard and Lois said in unison, sighing at each other before giving him their best stern parental looks.

Normally it was be enough to cow the boy, but Jason wouldn't be so easily mollified now. "Doesn't matter. It has to do with Kala and you shouldn't be alone. I'm going with you, Mom. I can't keep you safe if I don't know where you are."

"Jason,." Lois sighed, but the moment before she could say anything else, her son gave her a _look_ from under furrowed brows that she'd seen too often in the mirror.

"If you won't let me go, I'm telling Dad as soon as he gets here." The way he tilted up his chin and crossed his arms as he returned her steady disbelievinggaze was pure Lane stubbornness.

Utter disbelief welled up that this threat and Lois was sure that it was written all over her face. Great, now her own son was blackmailing her. As if this day couldn't get any betterworse.

Richard couldn't help laughing despite the seriousness of the situation they were in. "Better take him, Lois, he's gonna tell Dad," he teased. But when Lois glared at him, he tipped her a wink. Having Jason along would keep Lois from doing anything _too_ crazy, and if something did happen unexpectedly, well, he _was_ in superhero training for a reason.

The fact that his one of his fathers was mocking him, even gently, didn't appear to sway Jason in the slightest. His arms remained crossed, his position firm as he stared his mother down. Her hands going to her hips, Lois easily returned the annoyed expression on his face at having a figurative gun put to her head. And by her own son. There was no way she wanted him anywhere near her last lead, but what choice did she have? Wouldn't it be worse to have to worry about Kal-El trying to find her out? But the part that got to her the worst was that it would have been something she herself would have done to get her way, and had, many times.

For a long moment, she didn't trust herself to speak for fear of what would come out of her mouth. Off to theirre left she could hear the other kids started to mutter worriedly. She missed most of it, but caught Sebast's whispered, "One of these days, Mom's going to lose it and Jason isn't going to know what hit him. The boy can't try her forever." Wasn't that the truth. "Fine, you can go. Are you happy now?"

And when he grinned in relief and practically bounced to her side, he reminded her so much of his father back in the day that it hurt her heart. How was it that Jason had the impossible power to keep her from being angry at him for long, even when he deserved it? She gave an aggravated snort at the thought as she uncrossed her arms. Without another word, Lois was headeding straight for the door with him right at her heels, sheand added grumpily as they stepped into the hallway, "But you'd better keep up and keep quiet, Jason. I'd better not even know you're there…"

As the two of them left, Lois still lecturing Jason, Richard just shook his head slightly. He didn't notice Elise and Sebast turning to stare at Giselle; the three kids had been summarily abandoned after spending the day following up on all the phone calls made yesterday.

Giselle looked a little miffed at having been left behind, but the steady glare coming from the other two teenagers redirected her attention. She looked back at them with a trace of shame in her expression, but there was absolutely nothing she could say in defense.

Just as the tensions began to mount, Richard strolled up and leaned against the counter. "Since your fearless leader just disappeared on you, I guess it's my turn to be field commander. Bring me up to speed, kids."

Sebast and Elise sighed in unison as they turned their attention from Giselle to do so.

…

General Zod was still looking at Kala with an air of surprise when an all-too-familiar voice spoke further up the hall. "Well, I see you've already introduced yourselves. My, how you've grown, Kala! You could be Lois' sister instead of her daughter." Ice ran down the girl's spine. That seemingly jovial voice – with mocking laughter beneath every word – came from another face Kala remembered well.

The difference was, she'd met Lex Luthor in person, not in holograms from the Fortress's crystal bank archives. He had taken her and Jason captive, deliberately exposed them to kryptonite, and when Kala attacked him for beating up her father, Luthor had thrown her off the side of his damned kryptonite island. A long fall into icy water, and if not for Jason and Superman, she would've died there. Looking at him, she could _feel_ the frigid sea again, taste the salt water that stung her eyes and nose. Her nightmare came to life, and Kala shivered in terror.

Now, as she had ten years ago, she instinctively relied on the one fragile thread of sanity that she could grasp in such a desperate position. Despite her current upset with the answer, it came immediately. _What would Mom do?_ Simple: get angry, and get even. _Never_ admit to being afraid.

"Luthor, you slimy sonofa…" Kala growled, taking a step toward him. Her left arm was still throbbing, but the pain felt distant in the face of her growing rage. She was far faster than the goons who'd brought her in. If she could just get one good punch…

"He wears a shard of kryptonite set in a ring," Zod warned her an instant too late. The moment Kala shifted her weight, Luthor raised his hand, and she realized the dull metal on his finger was lead. Luthor hadn't approached too closely; it would take him only an instant to flip open the cap and expose her to the radiation. Kala was fast – but not _that_ fast. Not yet. And the memory of pain and weakness and that horrible ringing in her ears after her last exposure kept her at bay.

_I have to get out._ Kala did the unexpected, and whirled to bolt back through the group of men who'd brought her here. They were disorganized and demoralized, both from getting hurt by a teenager and from Zod's heat-vision attack. The girl put on a burst of speed and dodged them easily, racing along the corridor looking for an exit.

She skidded to a halt at a dead end. There were other corridors, but she could hear the men running, Luthor barking orders at them. Not just the ones who'd brought her in; from the sounds of it, the villains had a whole flock of henchmen stashed here.

Trapped, Kala used the only option she knew was fool-proof: she flung her head back and screamed for her father, screamed loud enough that her throat burned. If he could only hear her, and she knew he could…

The flare of optimism she felt died almost as soon as it lit. "The entire facility is sound-proof." That was Zod's voice again, still speaking Kryptonese with its formal, flat tones. He'd caught up to her somehow … well, he was supposed to be _dead_, killed in an escape attempt just a few years after Ursa, so if he was alive it shouldn't have been a surprise that he'd somehow managed to regain his powers.

Furious, Kala whirled on him, her eyes feral. She was cornered, no escape, no hope of help, and she knew her only option was to fight. Without thinking she leaped at Zod, her good arm cocked back for the hardest punch she'd ever thrown.

_Thwack._ Zod caught her wrist and held it, looking into her eyes steadily as she winced. Surprised, Kala read little in his expression beyond a distant sort of curiosity. "I mean you no harm," he said with more than a little force, and added almost too swiftly for her to comprehend, "I am as much a prisoner here as you are, Kala Kal-El."

With that, he released her, and Kala quickly stepped back. The rest of Luthor's goons had arrived, but they hung back from the general even as they eyed Kala with obvious anger. It seemed she'd injured more than flesh, and blows to ego had a nasty way of incurring revenge.

No options left, no way to save herself, no way to call down a rescue. She was trapped for real, no running away. The enormity of it crashed down on Kala, and she staggered, leaning against the nearest wall for support. While all of them stood watching her – Zod unreadable, the men wary, Luthor avaricious – she slid down to sit on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes glazing with terror.

Luthor smirked. "I didn't expect you to volunteer for the welcoming committee, General," he said. Zod turned his head slightly, but didn't fully face Luthor, contempt etched in every line of his body. The bald man continued tauntingly, "Then again, you and Kala have sort of a connection – if her father hadn't been so busy conceiving her, your little reign of terror would've ended much sooner."

The Kryptonian did not acknowledge him, turning away again. Luthor's eyes narrowed in wrath, and he snapped out, "Gentlemen, Miss Kent needs some time to adjust to her circumstances. Take her to her new quarters."

The goons started to move, but Zod cut them a look that stopped them in their tracks. "Luthor, your filth will not lay hands on a Kryptonian," he said sharply. It was the first time Kala had heard him use English, and she was unsurprised to realize it was just as formal as his Kryptonese.

All of them turned to look at Luthor, and even in her daze Kala saw their dismay. They couldn't decide which man they feared more, Luthor or Zod. Luthor, however, was looking at Zod with amused disbelief. "What, you want to carry her over the threshold yourself?"

Again that half-turn and sneer. Kala realized that Zod had never looked directly at Luthor; a lot of animosity existed between the two, but at the moment that was just another fact floating through the numbing fear that swamped Kala's mind. Ignoring Luthor's snide chuckle, Zod closed the distance between himself and Kala, and extended a hand toward her. "Kala Kal-El," he said, and waited.

Kala looked up at him, her expression bruised. She reached for his hand, but drew back, hesitating. Luthor made a tsking sound, but no one else moved, and Zod simply waited.

At last, Kala took his hand and let him help her to her feet. After a shaky moment, she stood up straight, and Zod immediately released her hand. "And where do you intend to quarter her, Luthor?" he asked, not even bothering to turn the slightest degree toward the bald man.

The continued slight clearly irritated Luthor. "Considering how well you two are getting along, I think I'll give her the room across the hall from you," he said with ill-disguised irritation. Zod didn't acknowledge him further, merely took a step back from Kala before turning to lead the way.

Kala snuck a glance at the uneasy goons. For all their ambivalence toward Luthor and Zod, they seemed pretty clear on one thing: all of them hated Kala. And Luthor himself was watching her far too intently for Kala's taste. She summoned all her dignity to walk away at Zod's measured pace instead of fleeing their glares.

…

Erik Eastlake felt like a heel. Even more so now that the reason for his shame had been avoiding him like the plague. And with good reason. Lois Lane-Kent had more enemies than she knew about, and they were more powerful than she thought. He'd actively been trying to spare her the worst of what was coming, partly because his superiors had ordered him to bring her over to their side, and partly for his own selfish reasons. He was embarrassed about those reasons; the fact that she was older by ten years, at least, didn't bother him, age was just a number, but the woman was _married_. Her marriage didn't seem to be all that stable, but Erik didn't like to think of himself as a home wrecker.

Still, she was fascinating, one of the most dynamic and attractive womean he'd ever met. And even knowing about her husband, and the kids, and the trials waiting for her ahead, Erik was still captivated by her in a way he really hadn't expected. There was a vibrancy about her that spoke of a fire in more than just her career. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what it would be like to lift her up onto her own desk, wrap her legs around his hips, and kiss her deeply while rocking against her. He could vividly imagine burying his face in her dark hair, his arms around her waist holding her close…

The doorbell rang, and Erik startled out of his guilty fantasy. _Gotta stop that,_ he scolded himself guiltily. _How are you ever going to face her again if you don't get this under control?_ _And you're going to __**have**__ to face her again, so get over it._ _You offered, she said no, end of story. Let it go._ Strange that the doorbell should be chiming in the middle of the afternoon, though. He wasn't expecting a package.

Erik opened the door of the condo, summoning the casual version of his charming grin. That expression fell as soon as he saw who was standing on his doorstep. With her hair wind-tossed and her color high from the extremity of the temperature was the very woman that had been invading his thoughts. He blinked, taken aback, and then finally managed to say, "Lois, I wasn't expecting you."

Her entire demeanor, however, was the exact opposite of what he'd hoped to see in this situation. Lois' shoulders were tense, her lips thinned in anger. "I think we both can safely say that I wasn't expecting to be here, Mr. Eastlake," she said at last, a note of cold implacability while she watched him through narrowed eyes. Just in case he was entirely blind to body language and deaf to tone, she added, "And it's Mrs. Lane-Kent."

"I'm sorry," he said, and somehow wound up continuing, "for … everything, you know." _Did I really think I could just suggest something like that to her, and have any chance of it being received well? I __**am**__ an idiot._ Already wondering just how much he'd have to grovel to convince her it had been a mistake and would never be repeated, Erik was glad to be cut off.

"I'm not here for an apology," she replied, arching one eyebrow, and Eastlake had the distinct feeling she knew something she wasn't supposed to.

Distinctly uncomfortable, Erik scrambled to come up with an explanation for her presence. If she wasn't here to take him up on his offer – oh, optimism was eternal – and she wasn't here to make him apologize, then what did she want? Maybe this was going in a positive direction. And maybe it was about to get worse. "Well, how can I help you?"

"I need to see your father's notes." He stared at her, this being the furthest thought from his mind at the moment. The pause seemed to just irritate her worse. The line of her jaw tightened before her gaze pinned him down. Heat was starteding to seep back into her voice when she added in a dark tone, "Now."

Erik rubbed the back of his neck, thinking quickly. Maybe he had a way in with her again. The opportunity to seduce her was gone, but if he could just crack that armor the tiniest bit… "This is really unprecedented," he replied in his most professional tones. "I'd consider letting you in, if…"

Lois held up one hand in front of his face, immediately shushing him. "Erik, you might want to hold on a second before you finish that sentence," she warned. She made a beckoning gesture with her other hand, and a tall young man stepped out from where he'd been concealed beside the door. At first, Erik didn't recognize him, but Lois said icily, "You've met my son, Jason."

"Right," Erik said. He hadn't recognized the boy he'd seen around the _Planet_ offices with that apprehensive glare on his face. Was Lois really the kind of woman who'd bring her own son to threaten a man for his actions? But no, the boy would've been _angry_ if he'd known about New Year's Eve, and right now he was only confused and suspicious. Quickly editing his reply, Erik continued, "As I was saying, I'd be happy to let you in, if only you'll tell me why you need to see those notes right this instant."

"My daughter is missing," Lois said flatly, and Erik flinched. He knew perfectly well how devoted she was to her children, and if one of them was gone…

"I don't see how my father's notes can help you," he replied, "but you're welcome to look. Just, please forgive me for being boorish the other day?"

"I'll consider it." Lois' response was guarded, a flash of guilt flickering in her eyes. Just enough to let him know she _had_ considered his offer, for an instant, and still rejected it. And then she just waited with a resolute stance, which essentially forced Erik to open the door wide and step back.

Knowing he had no other real choice, Eastlake stood aside. He had made this mess; this much he owed her. And just maybe there was a possibility of cleaning up loose ends. "Come in," he said with a touch of resignation in his voice.

…

Across town, Clark and Richard hurried down the steps into the Busiek Street subway station. By rights, they really shouldn't have been down there – investigating the disused tunnels where Kala's sunglasses had been found was a task for the police. But this was their daughter, so ordinary rules didn't apply. Clark wanted to check it out, and the other man couldn't blame him. Not only was his super-vision powerful enough to pick up traces of forensic evidence the human eye couldn't see, both men just had to see for themselves. And for the moment, Sawyer was letting him get away with it; she'd passed the information on to him with only a warning not to interfere with the officers on the scene.

Richard had come along because he'd been talking to a recently-arrived Clark when the news about the found sunglasses had come in. Lois had only been out the door a few minutes to pursue another lead, and Richard didn't like the thought of him haring off by himself anymore than Jason had liked Lois going out alone. Super-powered or not, any fool could see Clark was taking this very hard; not that it was easy for Richard, or anyone else, but he seemed to blame himself for Kala's disappearance and it showed to a painful degree. Only Lois looked more haunted and guilt-ridden than he did.

They were very nearly at the location when Clark stopped mid-stride and turned his quickly to the left, a frown furrowing his brow. HeRichard had just enough time to glimpse the exasperation on his face before Clark was stepping away, saying,. "Just a minute," he said to Richard, and disappeared into the crowd. Richard sighed; amazing how a guy his size could still manage to eel through the throngs of people in the subway.

Letting himself drift through the crowd, Richard tried to keep Clark in sight. He caught a sightglimpse of the taller man over at the end of the platform, and headed in that direction. Surely Clark wasn't going to just jump down and walk along the rails looking for further clues … not in street clothes, anyway.

As it turned out, that wasn't his goal. He'd cornered a tall, black-haired woman, and though Richard couldn't hear their conversation, Clark's body language made it clear that he was angry. The woman just folded her arms and gave him a regal stare. Richard decided not to just walk up and ask what the hell was going on – he did, however, make his way around to one of the support columns close enough to hear their conversation.

"We're aiding you, Clark, whether you want us to or not," the woman was saying. "It doesn't matter that this is personal. If anyone deserves the help of the League, it's you, who have given so much to our cause over the years."

"Diana," Clark began to say, while Richard sucked in a breath. Knows Clark, tall, black hair, and talking about a League? _Holy shit, that's Wonder Woman_, he thought, and quickly looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Fortunately, it seemed that the citizens of Metropolis were ignoring everything except themselves, as usual. It helped that he was the only person around who knew Clark was Superman.

"Clark, you don't have a choice. Bruce is already investigating our findings."

"I don't like using League resources for this," Clark protested.

"We volunteered," she replied. "We _all_ volunteered."

"You're treating my daughter running away as if it's a catastrophe of world-shaking proportions, Diana."

"It is," Diana said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "For you, it is. And you _know_ that if you haven't found her, it's very likely someone has taken her."

Richard saw Clark shudder. That possibility had lurked in the back of everyone's mind since yesterday, along with the extensive list of criminals and super-villains who might have a reason to kidnap Superman's daughter. No one had spoken it aloud yet, but everyone who knew the secret was thinking it. The search for Kala had been twice as desperate, knowing that the longer they didn't find her, the more likely it was that she couldn't return on her own.

"Clark, let us help you," Diana said. "Wherever she is, our combined efforts will be more successful at finding her. Besides, we're your _friends_ as well as your colleagues." Clark had hung his head, and Diana cupped his cheek, making him look at her. "It's not about professional responsibility or repaying favors. We _care_ about you."

Clark sighed and took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He enfolded Diana in a hug, resting his forehead against hers. She slipped her arms around his neck, letting him lean on her, and they stood like that, oblivious of the rest of the world. The busy commuters a few yards away didn't notice the embrace any more than they had noticed the argument a moment ago.

Richard, however, noticed it all too well. The obvious familiarity was enough to make his eyebrows shoot up. _What the __**fuck**__?!_ That was absolutely _not_ what he had been expecting. All of a sudden, the problems in the Lane-Kent marriage seemed to be much more serious than he and Lana had thought. _If he's cheating on Lois, she'll kill him … and I might help her. What the hell is he thinking?_

Fans of the JLA had often speculated on a match between the supposedly-single Superman and Wonder Woman. Even their names seemed meant for each other. But Richard had always had the impression, from stray remarks by Clark, that the possibility hadn't even crossed the Kryptonian's mind. Now he had a panicked moment where he wondered if they'd all been deceived, and the fanboys were right after all…

Living with Lana for ten years had taught Richard patience and discretion, though, and the longer he looked, the more he realized exactly what he was seeing. After all, he'd watched Clark hug Lana just as easily, and a kiss on the cheek was the normal greeting for the two old friends. The bigger man was something of a magnet for platonic female affection; Lucy hugged him enthusiastically and teasingly called him her big brother, and all of Lois' friends tended to give him a hug when the gang got together. Hell, even Raines would hug Clark, and she still refused to shake Richard's hand, claiming he might be contagious.

Richard himself hugged Lois as often as he could, once in a while picking her up just to make her yelp and threaten him. When it came right down to it, Richard had hugged _Clark_ on a number of occasions, and so had Jimmy. The taller man might not realize just how damning it looked, his arms around Diana so familiarly. And that Lois approved of his hugging friends; in Lois' mind, Diana wouldn't be among them.

His heart in his stomach, Richard refocused his attention to the pair on the platform. "Thank you, Diana," Clark said in a murmur so low, Richard barely caught the words. If not for a trick of the acoustics, he wouldn't have heard the soft tone.

"Who else is going to reprimand you?" she asked. "Bruce? I'm certain _that_ would be in everyone's best interest."

Clark chuckled, and stepped back from her. "If I don't tell you often enough, I'm grateful to have you in my life." Richard winced at that, knowing Lois well enough to know that this exchange would have hurt her if she had been the one overhearing. The entire family considered it to be Lois' job.

"The feeling is mutual," he heard the woman reply, and added, "and the rest of the League feels the same."

_Yeah,_ Richard thought, looking at her wistful expression,_ but not quite the way you mean it._ He was fairly certain of Clark's innocence – the guy was an open book where women were concerned. His love and desire for Lois shone in every glance toward her, and he looked at other women as just people, no differently than he looked at men. Richard had never seen him doing the kind of casual appraisal he himself was so often caught at.

But just because Clark was completely starry-eyed in love with his own wife didn't preclude the possibility of trouble. Richard knew perfectly well that Lois would've done her best to put a bullet in Diana's brain if she'd seen what he just saw. He sighed as Clark headed back over to him, thinking that they needed to focus on finding Kala … but this was one more thing that needed to be discussed. Richard would take it up with Clark himself, though. He doubted bringing Lana – or God forbid, Lois – into it would help the situation.

…

Eastlake hovered nervously as Lois flipped through his father's journal. She pointedly ignored him, scanning the old man's tiny handwriting. She wasn't going to get into all of that mess right now, especially with her son present. That had been one of the main reasons that she had given in and let him come. Erik didn't seem like the kind to air his dirty laundry in public or with an audience present. And Jason hovered even closer, watching Eastlake with a dubious air. That said, Lois was keeping half an eye on her son; in spite of her attempt to keep him in the dark, he sensed something more than research was going on.

"So," Eastlake finally spoke up after a tense twenty minutes. "Let me guess. Being interest in the software? All of it was about some story, wasn't it? It had nothing to do with upgrading the _Planet's_ computers; you just wanted more information on L-Tech."

Lois shot him a look that had silenced district attorneys and mayoral candidates, and Eastlake sighed. "Yeah. Look, I might be able to help you find what you need if you tell me what you're looking for."

There was a derisive snort at that as Lois looked back to her task. "And what makes you think I would trust you?" she said calmly, never looking up from the ledger she'd moved on to. _Damn, Eagle Capital Investments handles a hell of a lot of money,_ she thought, glancing at the figures.

"Lois, I'm on your side," he said, and there was a note of sincerity there that Lois hadn't heard from him before. It was enough for her to stop and consider it. If he could shed a little light, it might go a long way to finding Kala. And that was what was important. Regardless of what she thought of that little stunt he pulled, she finally met his gaze.

His expression was equal parts guilt, pleading, and fear. It had occurred to Lois before that Eastlake might be someone's pawn, but her background research seemed to prove him legit. Maybe he was being used without his knowledge or consent, a more charitable interpretation, but she knew that this could have been dangerous. Taking Jason hadn't been her idea, but she'd let him come along because she was armed, and he was so determined to protect her. Besides, even if Eastlake was working for Luthor more directly than she suspected, bursting into his house without warning was probably her safest option. If she caught him off-guard, she would have more control over the situation.

Now, though, she reassessed the situation and figured Eastlake might know more than she'd thought. As always, Lois took a deep breath and laid her figurative cards on the table. "Alright, fine. Ever heard of Lex Luthor?" she asked point-blank, and Jason sucked in a shocked gasp.

The way Eastlake's brow furrowed looked completely genuine. If he was faking, he was a damn fine actor. "He was that guy that went after Superman a while back, wasn't he? Created some kind of island. I always thought he sounded like a nut, actually."

Lois leaned back the chair as she turned to fully face him. Her reporter's instincts were locked on to every movement of Eastlake's, down to the slightest gesture. If he was lying to her at any point, she'd know. "Crazy, but too damn smart for anyone's good. And he managed to dodge prison last time around. No one's seen him since. Except I think your father might have met him at a business function."

"What?" Eastlake said in incredulity. There was no missing the indignant tone in his voice. "Dad wouldn't have anything to do with someone like that. The investment business can be pretty cutthroat, but he'd never deal with someone who broke the law…"

That sent those hazel eyes heavenward and her raising respect for him plummeted a bit. "Erik, calm down. No one accused your father of first-degree murder, okay? Odds are that he might not have known," Lois countered, flipping the ledger closed. "Where's the scrapbook? If Luthor's using the alias I think he's been using, you might just have a picture of him."

"Who do you think he is?" Eastlake stepped away, rising on tiptoe to get a leather-bound book off a top shelf. He blew a thing coat of dust off it before handing it to Lois. "Someone in L-Tech?"

"No," Lois replied. Her voice sounded preoccupied, but she was on full alert, every muscle tensed for sudden action. Erik's reaction to her next words would reveal whether or not he had any knowledge of Luthor's current activities, or the deal Lois had struck with the maniac ten years ago. "I think he's the founder of Prometheus Corp., Alexander Roth."

Eastlake cocked his head, brow furrowing. "I don't know either of those names," he admitted.

"Well, Prometheus funded a lot of ECI projects," Lois continued, still wary. She paged slowly through the scrapbook, finding old, sepia-tinted photographs of dour men in double-breasted suits. "Usually through their subsidiary, Vanderworth Holdings."

"Them I remember," Erik said with a grimace. "Pop said they had no class but plenty of money. The husband named everything after his wife – she had a couple of those puffball dogs, carried them around everywhere with her. Pomeroys? Something frou-frou like that."

"Pomeranians," the reporter corrected, still absorbed in every detail of the pictures before her. "And Lex Luthor married the widow Vanderworth when she got him out of prison. She left her entire estate to him. He used the yacht to kidnap me and the kids, and managed to escape in the helicopter that came with it. Police found the chopper in Texas but never caught up to Luthor. The yacht and the estate reverted back to the family, but he'd drained all of the accounts. He'd started moving Gertrude's money while he was still in prison."

"Wow," Eastlake said softly, shaking his head. "She seemed like a nice old lady. I can't believe she got mixed up in all this."

"Erik, at the time you would've been about the same age as Jason is now," Lois said with a sigh. Her instincts had finally decided the young investor wasn't a threat. There was no way that Luthor could have trained him to be this far off the mark. And she had to admit that it was a relief. "I wouldn't have relied on you for a character assessment when your biggest concern in life was not having an acne breakout right before prom."

"Touché," he said, with a glance at Jason. The boy hadn't spoken a word, just watched Erik carefully, and now his expression suggested that _he_ was a much better judge of character than Eastlake would ever be. With a sigh, the investor said to Lois, "Upper management at L-Tech is notoriously camera-shy, and I've never run across the Prometheus company in Dad's notes. I doubt you'll find what you're looking for in there. But I might be able to ask some people…"

"You don't have to call anyone." Lois was still flipping the pages slowly. "I'd really rather you not say anything about what I'm looking for – the wrong people might get wind of it." She bit her lip, thinking that the wrong people had probably already known about her investigation. Why else would Kala disappear so suddenly?

Eastlake shuffled his feet, and he looked as though he was about to suggest something else, when Lois shuffled through a few more pages and was rewarded with a familiar face looking up at her. "Gotcha," she said, giving a triumphant and predatory smile.

Jason was leaning over her shoulder, worried and curious at her reaction. "What is it, Mom?" He gasped in recognition the moment he saw the photo.

"It's not Luthor, but I know this guy." Lois tapped the image of the third man from the left in the photograph, who had a pained expression on his face as he and half a dozen others posed in front of a sign that read 'L-Tech'. "He looks Indian, but he had a British-sounding name…"

"Stanford," Jason supplied with a pause. "His name was Stanford, Mom. He was with the others on the boat, but we didn't see him very much. He stayed away from the other guys. I think he was Luthor's tech guy."

"And he was flying the helicopter," Lois murmured. "So he escaped with Luthor. There's no way he would've gotten involved with a major company like this if he was on the run from Lex, so he must still be working with him."

…

Perry leaned back in his desk chair and pretended to study the series of photos Jimmy had just handed him, while actually watching the younger man. Once upon a time, the freckled photographer would have been fidgeting in his seat, worrying what Perry was thinking. Now he sat with his elbows on the desk, waiting patiently.

He'd come a long way from the anxious kid trying to break into the news business, and the pictures showed that just as much. Perry knew that once he'd decided which ones the _Planet_ would run, Jimmy might offer the others to a magazine or two. His work had been published in _Newsweek_ and _Time_, and Perry had approved completely, since the kid knew where his primary loyalties lay. As the head of the _Planet's_ photography department, Jimmy not only coordinated with all the other photographers, he was a photojournalist in his own right – the shots on Perry's desk were from Olsen's recent trip to the Middle East. Powerful stuff. The redhead deserved all the compliments he'd been getting.

"We'll see," Perry said gruffly. Olsen just grinned; he'd finally learned, after years of shying away from every outburst, that the Chief only really yelled at the employees he _liked_. He made a point of challenging them; his favorites were never coddled, and instead were given just the right climate of adversity to inspire them to rise above it all and prove his dire prognostications wrong.

"Thanks, Chief," Jimmy said with a grin. "So what's been going on while I was out? Anything happen since New Year's that I should check out?"

The older man frowned. It wasn't like Olsen to be out of the loop, especially on something like this. "Checked your voicemail yet?" Perry asked.

"No, my phone died and I haven't charged it yet," the younger man replied. "What's up?"

Perry took a deep breath, wondering how he would break the news to Olsen. Lois' twins adored him, the feeling was mutual, and telling Jimmy that Kala had run away wasn't going to be easy. Fortunately, he was spared having to tell him _right then_ by the arrival of Laurel, Lois' secretary.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. White, but I think you should see this," she told him.

Jimmy craned his head around to look at the piece of paper she'd given Perry. The editor scowled at the graph with its spiky upward line. "Our stock price is going up," he commented. "That's good."

"Sir, that's since _this morning_," Laurel told him. "It's jumped over ten dollars so far today, and the trend keeps going higher."

Perry scowled. "That's odd. Someone out there knows something I don't?"

"Are we suddenly gonna make a lot of money?" Jimmy wondered.

"I only found out because Kay – Lana's assistant – called me," Laurel said. "Lana has a lot of stock in the company, and her broker wanted to know if she wanted to sell at these prices."

"I'm calling my broker," Perry said decisively.

…

Kala paced around her room, looking at everything and touching nothing. Everything was in a monochromatic color scheme of grays accented with black and white. The lights were recessed, except for the one tucked under the bed that shone a subdued gleam along the floor. The lines of the minimalist furniture were clean to the point of sterility, and the shelves were recessed into the blank expanse of the wall. Mercy had selected the furnishings for this room and the one across the hall, which was nearly identical except that it used more white than black.

Kala cradled her left arm close to her body as she moved, her shoulders hunched and her eyes wide. Suddenly she froze, then ran to the door. It opened at a touch, and she sighed in relief at not being locked in before letting it close. Soon she was back to pacing warily.

The surveillance camera over the door caught her attention, and she stared into the dark lens. Lex Luthor and Mercy Graves watched her on a large screen. "She's more self-possessed than I expected," Luthor said thoughtfully.

Mercy's response was immediate and to-the-point, her pale blue eyes riveted to their subject. "It was in the surveillance notes. She puts up a good façade, but she _is _vulnerable. She'll break."

The girl sat down on the edge of the bed, a platform design that matched the room's ultra-modern décor. When she began taking off her boots, it was obvious that she was struggling to do it without using her left hand. "She's injured," Mercy commented.

"We'll have it seen to." He watched the screen as avidly as a diner in a seafood restaurant watched the aquarium. "In a while. For the moment, it might give us leverage."

His assistant looked at him with a reproving expression. "We have all the leverage we need. We don't want to turn her hostile; the General is enough trouble in that department."

Lex scoffed; meanwhile, Kala walked over to the surveillance camera with a boot in her hand. Standing on tiptoe, she hammered at the lens with her boot heel. "Smart girl," Lex said with amused approval as the image went dark, switching the video feed to the room's _other_ camera. This one was hidden behind the room's mirror.

"Intelligent subjects don't react well to a negative approach," the blonde woman warned, watching the girl again. "Be patient, Lex. If you push her too hard, we'll lose her. And she's already dealing with trauma."

"I had to let the boys bring her in. Her mother got loose aboard _The Gertrude_ because the guys I had then couldn't believe she was dangerous. I won't have this one running around just because those idiots can only see a pretty little teenager. It was an object lesson."

"The security staff does respond better to aversive techniques." Mercy herself had caused innumerable injuries during her tenure as chief of security, having to repeatedly remind the staff that her sleek good looks were deceptive. "Of course, now they're angry with her, and they'll want revenge, but they're smart enough not to take her on without a larger group. She was drugged when she was brought in, and we don't know the extent of her powers. We may have some fatalities from this."

"Her brother killed one of my guys when the twins were only six. I won't be surprised if she kills a couple of them before they catch on. They're prison scum; we can always find a few more." Dark humor leaked behind the smile on Lex's lips, coloring his words.

The woman at his side gave a slow nod. "We might not have to worry so much," she said thoughtfully. "Zod seems to have designated himself her protector."

"That did surprise me," Luthor admitted. "I expected him to be a lot more 'grandchild of my jailer' about the whole thing. That's why I didn't tell him we were bringing her in, or who she was. I can't figure out what his angle is – he has to know she's direct competition for him, in terms of usefulness to me."

"Zod no longer cares if he's useful to you," Mercy replied with a dry chuckle. "I saw how he behaved down there. He hates you as much as he ever hated Jor-El."

"That would sit easier with me if I knew what his motive was concerning the girl," Luthor muttered. Kala had paced the room for a few more minutes before curling up on the bed, her eyes flicking around the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Hmm." A slow smile curved her lips, and then she said speculatively, "Time has no meaning in the Phantom Zone, and he hasn't visibly aged in his sixteen years on Earth. Essentially, he's still in the prime of his life, albeit the late prime. And you are aware that she _is_ the only living female of her kind…"

Luthor looked up at her, and then at the scared sixteen-year-old huddled on the bed. He and Mercy started snickering in unison.

* * *


	24. And In The Shadow She Hides

**In celebration of Ms. Anissa (****anissa7118**)'s birthday and the fact that **saavikam77** is so badass, we're posting this guy now to give you an early start. Expect the unexpected in this chapter. Also know that this is only the first of the serious surprises coming up...

**...can any hear that rollercoaster starting up? *evil grin* **

**Also, the photo mentioned in this chapter is posted on this week's version of the chapter on my LJ. A heartbreaking job by Ms. Rizny, to whom this chapter is dedicated.  
**

* * *

_Knowing clouds will rage  
And storms will race in  
But you will be safe in my arms  
Rains will pour down  
Waves will crash all around  
But you will be safe in my arms_

_Castles they might crumble  
Dreams may not come true  
But you are never all alone  
Because I will always  
Always love you..._

~ _**Plumb**_, _In My Arms_

_

* * *

_

Diana walked beside Clark as they slipped away from the crowd to find someplace secluded – no phone booths down here, but if there was one thing Metropolis subways had plenty of, it was odd little disused nooks and crannies. With their speed, that was space and time enough to change into uniform, and Diana _still_ didn't know how he managed to fit the cape under a business suit. Trade secret, Clark has answered her before, always with a smile, sometimes with a chuckle.

She doubted he would have smiled just then. They dodged the cops processing the scene – the speed of Hermes, ever useful – and explored further down the tunnels, looking for anything that might lead them to Kala. Flight would help preserve any forensic evidence, but at the moment they weren't seeing anything to preserve. Not a trace. Diana could tell by the set of his shoulders that Clark was getting discouraged, so she tried a different train of thought.

They weren't seeing anything that shouldn't be there, so what weren't they seeing that _should_ be there? The answer came to her so quickly that she halted in mid-flight. "Clark," she called, when he flew on ahead, not even noticing.

The sound of her voice was enough to stop him, the tall man looking over his shoulder perplexedly. "Diana?"

"There's something quite odd here. There's no dust," she told him. "No litter, no grime. This tunnel has been cleaned, thoroughly and recently." _Probably right after she was taken, cleaned up to keep us from finding the scene. If they hadn't missed the glasses…_

It was impossible to miss the look in his eyes, the one that told her how obvious it should have been to both of them. If only he hadn't been so busy worrying about his daughter, if only she hadn't been so busy worrying about him. That wasn't important – the only thing that was important was finding out who had been using these tunnels.

Clark had the vision that could see through all of this mess, and he used it, peering intently as he turned a slow circle in midair. "The adjacent tunnels are filthy, as expected. It's just this one … for about another hundred yards. Then it dead-ends in solid bedrock." He looked down then, and without another word flew further up the tunnel. There was a grating set in the floor, which Clark tossed aside as he dove down.

Diana followed closely, their powers so nearly matched that she could keep pace with him. "Luthor," Clark growled just a few feet ahead, navigating the twisting tunnels. "He used to have a hideout down here, under Park Avenue. It has to be Luthor, the sick sonofa…"

He accelerated, heading for another grating, another layer deeper, and intuition started to warn Diana, faint alarm bells ringing somewhere in her consciousness. Flashing past what was once Luthor's gauntlet – bullets, fire, ice, none of it could stop Clark then, nothing would stop him now, Luthor's extravagant machines gone still and silent. Then there was a door ahead and every instinct the Amazon possessed screamed _Don't go in there!_

"Lead-lined," Clark said harshly, flying still faster, "she's _right here_," and he powered through the door with a clang of metal bursting before invulnerable fists.

Diana was right on his heels when the green glow flared from that room, conscious thought finally catching up to intuition. _If they were so careful to sweep the floors and eliminate trace evidence, how could they possibly have missed the glasses? Simple answer: they didn't miss them. The sunglasses were __**bait**__._ She grabbed Clark by the ankle unceremoniously and hauled him out, straight up, knocking aside brick and metal. She had just enough presence of mind to make their exit through a subway grating instead of a sidewalk, flashing past the buildings and up into the sun. Clark twisted free of her hand and righted himself, looking at her, pale and shocked. Other than that, he hadn't taken any serious harm, thanks to her swift intervention. "Kryptonite," he whispered.

"A trap. For _you_. The sunglasses were a plant to bring you in."

Clark almost never used profanity, and Diana found that intriguing, but he growled a few choice words before finishing, "Still, it proves Luthor's involvement."

"It does," Diana was quick to agree, a small frown on her features. "And that he means to kill you."

His frown mirrored hers as he tossed off irritably, "_That's_ nothing new."

Without further comment, he turned as if to descend again, but she reached out and caught his shoulder. "Wait," she said. "That was close – too close. Wait here a moment, and take the sun. I'll go deal with the kryptonite and the police."

Clark nodded, and gave her a wan smile. "I'm going to need to go back down there and explain things to Richard." Diana looked at him, trying to place the name, and Clark clarified, "Richard White, my kids' other dad. He was helping me search – or more likely, he was trying to keep me from doing anything rash." A mile of empty air beneath their feet made the conversation as private as it could be, so it was safe to use names – that was one thing they were always very, very careful about.

"Someone needs to," Diana told him, balancing the tone carefully between affectionate and stern. "Clark, you do need to be careful."

"I will," he promised quickly, almost too quickly, and Diana flew back down, thinking that perhaps sometimes Superman _did_ lie, however unknowingly.

…

In the car on the way back from Eastlake's, Lois didn't look at Jason when she said seemingly out of nowhere, "Don't say anything to your father about where we went."

Jason turned to look over to his mother with surprise. Considering the lead they had gained from the visit with the investor, he hadn't expected this. Jason knew that he sounded disapproving when he asked, "Why?" This didn't sound good.

Lois' gaze reeked of annoyance when she met his eyes. "Because I said so," was the blunt response. Jason wasn't normally one to argue with parental orders.

_God, why does she do that? And why does she always expect me to buckle under?_ Her son folded his arms and stared at her belligerently. "You said no more secrets," Jason reminded her, his blue eyes stern as he stared at his mother. "You promised a long time ago you weren't gonna lie to us or to Dad. No way am I gonna help you break that. I love you, Mom, but no."

"Jason, I'm not keeping a secret," Lois explained patiently. "I'll tell your father where the information came from, just not right now. And I'm not gonna lie, I just won't reveal my sources. Okay?"

Jason mulled that over for a few minutes, watching Lois intently. His mom was world-class at evasion, and couching everything in journalistic metaphors was usually a bad sign. He decided to be blunt and insistent; Lois rarely had the heart to keep refusing him when he really, _really_ wanted something. "How come you don't want Dad to know where the information came from?" he asked, and added as an afterthought, "And what's up with you and Mr. Eastlake?"

Lois' knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He could see the way she was trying to make her expression unreadable. "What do you mean, what's up with me and Eastlake?" she asked then, eyes locked on the road with considerably intensity, probably not realizing how forced her words sounded.

"Just then you acted like you hate his guts, when you were being all nice last time I was at the newspaper," Jason pointed out. "And he's all tongue-tied and stupid around you. Does he have a crush on you, Mom?" That possibility made him feel a little sick; many men flirted with his mother, but only Dad and Richard could do so without making Jason want to chase them off.

Lois sighed heavily before answering, running her free hand through her hair. "Jason… I guess you could say he does, yeah. And your father's being thick-headed about it."

Jason considered that, and didn't like any part of it. The investor was young, good-looking, and wealthy, the kind of guy that married women got in trouble over – at least on TV and in books. And given the way things were going in the Lane-Kent house lately… Jason finally asked in a very small voice, "Is that why you and Dad were fighting the other night?"

That did it, his mother whipping her gaze over to him to make her exasperation clear. "We are _not_ discussing this," Lois snapped, although he knew she was holding back just a bit. "Jason, honey, I love you, but I'm _not _getting relationship advice from a sixteen-year-old. Suffice it to say, I have not, I am not, and I will not cheat on your father, and _especially_ not with someone like Eastlake. God, he's young enough to be my son, if I'd started as early as your aunt Lucy."

Jason laughed with relief. That had been exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. "Thanks, Mom," he said. Her tone and attitude made it very, very clear that she wasn't romantically entangled with Eastlake. Lois managed to chuckle along with him, and the oppressive atmosphere in the car lifted for a moment.

They'd barely driven a mile when it occurred to Jason that his parents still had relationship problems, and now he didn't know the cause of them. Even worse, they were now fairly sure that Lex Luthor was somehow involved in Kala's disappearance. That meant that all of their efforts so far had probably been wasted.

The depressing thought weighed on Jason all the way home, only to find that no one was home. Richard had left a hastily-scrawled note saying that he and Clark were checking up on a possible lead. Maggie had amended that with a comment that she was going to meet with the missing-persons squad and would call later. And below her precise handwriting was Sebast's angular script, which simply read, "Your aunt says there's nothing else we can do today, so we're out. Call me if you need me, _mano_." Elise had added, "See you tomorrow," and Giselle had written at the very bottom of the piece of paper, "Love you."

Jason was at a loss; he couldn't openly talk about Luthor with his girlfriend or any of his friends. Sooner or later they would ask why the madman was so obsessed with this family, and he didn't feel up to all the roundabout explanations that would keep them from finding out the truth. And Lois was standing in the living room but clearly not seeing the apartment at all, lost in her own mind as she tried to plan their next move.

What he really wanted, right at that moment, was some company and comfort from someone who wouldn't demand answers he couldn't give. Fortunately, the Lane-Kents had a dog, and she was currently sniffing Jason's pant leg. He reached down to pick up the beagle, feeling a little guilty that she'd been neglected since New Year's. Bagel licked his face and wagged her tail worriedly, sure signs that she'd picked up on the tension among her humans and didn't like it at all.

"I'm gonna take Bagel for a walk," Jason said, and Lois nodded distractedly.

…

Kala had been half-dozing. She was exhausted by the fight, and whatever drugs they'd given her had left her with a lingering headache. She didn't want to actually fall asleep, as that would leave her helpless, but she also didn't want to leave this room. The guys she'd hurt were out there, and so far no had intruded on the room Luthor said was hers. It was a waking nightmare, and in that state she could do more than huddle on the bed and drowse, waiting like a trapped animal for whatever came next.

A faint chime brought her immediately to full consciousness, and she sat up on the bed, ready to defend herself. The door to her room slid open – so other people _could_ come in here at will. That didn't surprise her, but one of her few remaining hopes shattered the moment her visitor walked in.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man who clearly spent some time in the gym. Kala readied herself for a fight, cursing the quirk of inheritance that had given Jason strength and a fuller measure of invulnerability. But the strange man only regarded her for a moment, and then said in a level voice, "Would you like to get that arm looked at, Miss Lane-Kent?"

"Sure," Kala replied, not moving an inch. "Open a door and I'll make my own way to the nearest hospital."

He chuckled at that. "Sorry, kid, I've got orders. I'm…"

Kala cut him off. "Are they anything like the orders given to the guys who brought me in? Because the next person who gropes me is gonna get kicked so hard they won't even be able to scream in pain until tomorrow." She'd spent some time devising that threat, after rejecting a comment about using her heat-vision to perform a couple of impromptu vasectomies. The less they knew about her powers, the better.

"Those guys are trash," the man said dismissively. "Just here to keep the scientists and the general from starting trouble. Some of the folks here have sort of artistic temperaments, you know? They need a two-hundred-fifty pound ex-con with barbed wire tattooed on both wrists to remind them that protesting the working hours and the menu is not a smart idea."

"Just how many people are down here?" Kala asked.

"Enough," he replied. "Listen, I don't see any reason why you and I have to have any problems. Mr. Luthor wants me to take you down to the infirmary and get your arm checked out. You probably want that seen to, don't you? I'm also supposed to tell you why you're here and what Mr. Luthor wants from you. I'm sure those are things you want to know. So you don't have to fight with me, okay?"

"Okay," Kala said tentatively, "for now."

"Good enough," he said. "My name's Robert Schecter. C'mon, let's get you to the infirmary."

Kala rose with as much grace as she could muster, considering the throbbing pain centered in her wrist, and followed him out of the room. Three of the tough guys were standing at the junction of two corridors, laughing and talking, but they went quiet when they saw Kala.

Schecter just kept walking. "Move along, boys," he said casually, and they did.

That made Kala look at him speculatively. "So what's your job around here?" she asked.

"Accountant," he replied, and chuckled at her disbelieving snort. "I'm a CPA."

"I didn't think Luthor's goons would respect a CPA," Kala said. "And I didn't think I'd find one working for him."

"We all have to make a living," Schecter told her. "And some of us have to make restitution, too. I did five years for embezzlement. The way I figure it, the company I worked for was screwing me over with mandatory unpaid overtime and cheap benefits and piddly ten-cent raises. So I got even – I made sure I got the money I was worth." He sighed, and added with an ironic shrug, "Judge didn't see it that way, though."

"So you figured you'd fall in with an even bigger crook?" Kala was still uneasy enough to be snappish, and she wanted to find out if Schecter had a nasty temper lurking under his amiable exterior.

"Couldn't get a straight job," he replied. "Unless I wanted to work for McDonald's. Luthor hired me to do the payroll, and his bullyboys respect the guy who cuts the checks. It helps that I spent time in stir, and got the chance to work out."

"So how come Luthor sent his pet accountant to talk to me?" Kala asked. They were walking down a series of indifferently-lit gray concrete corridors, but Schecter seemed to know his way in spite of the lack of landmarks. Abruptly, they turned onto a corridor with finished white walls, tiled floors, and bright fluorescent lights overhead.

"I don't know," Schecter said. "Maybe he figured I was the one least likely to tick you off, but not someone you could easily overpower? Doesn't matter, anyway. No one questions Luthor more than once."

Kala mused on that as he led her into a glassed-in room where a group of men and women in lab coats were examining a huge crystal structure that rose out of the ground. Schecter introduced the medical team, but Kala wasn't paying attention. She had recognized the Fortress' diagnostic assembly even in these unfamiliar surroundings, and her shock kept her quiet as the doctors guided her injured arm beneath the central crystal.

_How the hell did it get here?_ she thought. _It's not like Luthor could pick it up and move it. The memory crystals, sure, they're portable, but this thing…_

Meanwhile, the smaller crystals began to glow, their light increasing in a steady, quickening pulse. The main crystal, which was as big around as a moderately-sized tree, gradually brightened in time with the pulsing light around it until it blazed a brilliant golden-white. Kala closed her eyes and still felt it hammer at her eyelids, her vision going red with each pulse.

The crystals made a noise when they moved, an eerie sliding-squeaking-chiming sound that Kala had always hated. Watching the Fortress' control panel slide upward from the ground always gave her the creeps, and knowing that the massive diagnostic crystal was sliding down toward her suddenly-fragile wrist made her want to yank it away. But she'd dealt with an identical copy of this particular machine before, having had regular checkups at the Fortress ever since she was six.

The huge crystal shone with a light so intense it seemed as though it _must_ burn. But as Kala knew, this was a completely non-invasive imaging and diagnostic tool, one which left no trace on the human or Kryptonian bodies it examined. Where the crystal hovered just above her skin, she felt nothing – no heat, no chill, no tingling. That was far creepier than getting an x-ray or an MRI.

The light dimmed, and a disembodied voice spoke in Kryptonese. Kala had the translation before the scientists around her did; her ulna had a hairline fracture, with plenty of associated bruising. "Let's get a cast brace on that," one of the doctors said.

Schecter had been sitting in a chair nearby, and while the medical team found an appropriate brace and fitted it to the teenager's arm, he studied Kala. She stared back at him, wondering what was going through his mind. "So what now?" she said, after pocketing the pain pills one of the doctors offered her.

"You've seen the diagnostic crystal before," Schecter said, standing up and beckoning Kala to follow him out. "So you _have_ been in the Fortress of Solitude."

Kala kept her mouth shut as she walked beside him, her eyes going cold and narrow. _Aw, shit._

…

It was with very mixed emotions that Lois found herself in the doorway to Kala's room. Where the dark and whimsical décor of her child's room usually exasperated her to the point of evading it, now it just hurt to look at. No one other than Jason had had the heart to go in since Kala had disappeared. Although she was loathe to admit it, Lois knew that the main reason she hadn't was that she'd have to cope with not hearing, "Attack alligators on premises. Enter at your own risk," the moment she opened the door a crack. Never in her life did she think that the lack of it would make her heart ache the way it did.

Making herself walk across the purple carpet (_Mystic Echo_, Kala had announced with utter delight when she and her father had returned from the carpet showroom that day. Lois herself had snorted in amusement), she walked over to Kala's still-unmade bed. Her earlier discussion with Jason had skewed her thoughts to the point that she couldn't get his admonition out of his mind. It didn't help matters to have had her suspicions confirmed by that picture in Eastlake Senior's scrapbook. Actually, a small part of her had hoped against hope that she had been jumping to conclusions.

_Luthor._ The name made her shiver, even in her own mind. Could it really be him after all these years of peace, or was she just clutching at shadows, trying to find a reason why this could be anyone's fault but hers?

It was tempting to think that maybe, just _maybe,_ her famous journalistic intuition was wrong. The nagging doubt tugged at Lois as she looked around her daughter's room, seeing absolutely no signs of a struggle. Kala _had_ left on her own, not coerced in the slightest. Maybe…

Without really thinking about it, Lois started to search more carefully and thoroughly, looking for any clue that might refute the assumption she dreaded. After all, Kala _could_ be perfectly safe somewhere, just throwing one of her epic tantrums. Luthor might not be involved at all. Kala didn't _have_ to have been kidnapped, she could've just run away, she could've planned and prepared better than anyone in her life could imagine. And if she had, there might be some clue to her destination still in the room.

Lois had a sudden, vivid memory of Kala at six years old, right after Lois and Clark had gotten married. Clark had bought Lois an expensive leather-bound journal, one of the ones that seemed too good for normal everyday musings; the rich cream-colored paper cried out for pithy observations on the state of the world, or deeply thoughtful poems rich in imagery. Lois had kept it on her desk, occasionally riffling the pages just to enjoy the weight of the paper and the faint scent of the leather cover, but she hadn't been able to think of anything worth writing in it. Not as a first entry, anyway.

Kala solved that for her. One day, when she opened the journal, she found her daughter's sprawling script on the second page. "Mommy, Im not relly mad when you an Daddy Clark kiss," it read. "Im kinda glad. Other kids parents dont kiss a lot and call each other Dear and Hunny, and sum of them get devorsed. Than everyboddy cries. You an Daddy Clark can kiss all you want if it meens yu will allways be togethur." Lois had laughed, but she'd also been touched by the sentiment, and Kala hadn't been scolded for writing in the journal. She just wanted to be like her mom…

…like the way she used to follow Lois around, watching her do her makeup and get dressed and do her hair. Everything Mommy did, Kala wanted to do, too, and it took some persuading to keep the little girl from trying to use Lois' eyeliner. When had it all gone sour?

Lois forced herself away from that thought, and back to what was important: the journal. Kala had gotten one just like it when she turned fourteen, and she'd treasured it, going to extreme lengths to keep it hidden. But Lois was a Pulitzer-prize-winning investigative reporter, and if that diary was in this room, she would find it.

Pushing aside the nagging notion that this was exactly the kind of thing Kala would have expected of her was damn difficult when she was riffling through the girl's drawers. First, her dresser drawers, finding several pilfered slips and such belonging to her amongst Kala's own, but not the journal. The results were the same on searching all three of the vanity drawers (three of her darker MAC lipsticks and a pink-gold Lustreglass – leave it to her kid to steal the good stuff). Nothing in the closet, top to bottom, except two baskets of clothes that Kala never seemed to have put away. And about four outfits worth of her mother's own high-end clothes for work, some of which she had thought she had given away at some point without realizing it, which would ordinarily have annoyed Lois to no end.

As it was, it just worried her more. Nerves fraying all the worse, Lois redoubled her efforts, even going as far as pulling out the step-ladder from the study to check the top of Kala's closet and some of her higher shelves. She also checked the area around the low bookcase where Captain Bonnie's cage usually rested. The ferret was currently residing in Jason's room, the boy having taken her out with him when he'd woken up in his twin's room. Just seeing the shape of the cage's outline in the dust made Lois' heart ache. More proof of just how wrong the world was at the moment.

No matter where she looked in the room, which was still in its usual teenage-messy state despite the often-heard promises that she could keep her room just as barracks-neat as Jason's, there was nothing to indicate where she had planned to go and no sign of the journal. The piles of purple peasant skirts, dark jeans, and delicate tops on the floor gave up none of their secrets; likewise, Kala's stuffed meerkat stared mutely at her from its customary place on the canopy bed. Considering the way their relationship had been of late, she should have known that she wouldn't find anything in here. It was almost like her child had wanted to make it impossible for her to be found, if only by Lois herself.

Fighting the feeling of utter helplessness, Lois threw herself back on the bed, jostling the stuffed doll out of its place. The silence of the room was somber while she lay there staring up into the ivory lace of the canopy, wracking her brain for answers, _any_ answers. She hated this lost feeling, hated waiting, hated wondering. Hated seeing the fear and pain that haunted Kal-El's and Jason's eyes. But, most of all, she hated feeling broken inside in an irreparable way. All of the losses she'd had over the year, not knowing where her daughter was dwarfed even her mother's death.

Tightening her jaw, Lois fought the sob attempting to bubble up, closing her eyes on the tears she felt welling. No. No, not yet. She was not going to fall apart until they had a lead on her whereabouts. It wasn't in the cards. Kala needed her help, whether she knew she needed it or not. She made herself sit up, shoving the thought away as hard as she could. In doing so, she noticed something unusual about the bedsheets.

The bed was still unmade from Jason sleeping there the night before, the boy having gotten up so early that he probably hadn't even thought of it. That Kala's twin had passed a restless night was clear in the fact that the sheets were completely askew, the comforter tossed aside. Even the fitted sheet's elastic had been pulled off the side enough to show the down mattress pad Kala had gotten as a birthday present and the fancy 'bed belt' that they had purchased to keep the thing in place. The belt that encircled the width of the bed frame…

Lois' eyes widened then, diving for the floor. The instant her knees hit the carpet, she was leaned down and searching the underside of the bed by touch. _It has to be there, it has to be there… _All she could feel was the frame and the fabric of the belt. Growling in frustration, she leaned her arm further. _Come on. I know it has to be under here. Come __**on**__… __**There**_! She nearly whooped in elation when her fingertips slipped around the smooth, cool surface of the journal's cover.

Tugging it free from its hiding place, Lois hesitated. Normally she'd be thrilled by the discovery of this sort of information. God knows she wouldn't have shied away from this kind of thing when it involved crooked senators or the like. How could opening this journal make her feel vaguely ill?

Because it belonged to her own child and she had no idea what she'd find when she looked into it. And the thought just didn't sit right with her. Kala's most secret thoughts were in those pages, never guessing that another pair of eyes would see it. Reading it would be a profound invasion of her privacy … and might reveal a few hurtful words that Lois would have a hard time forgetting. Maybe more than a few…

But what was that compared to maybe gleaning some answers to where Kala could be? The reporter stared down at the little journal in her hands with more than a little trepidation.

…

"No, I haven't heard from them yet, and it's making me crazy." The cell phone conveyed Lana's frustration perfectly.

Kay sympathized with her completely, wishing there was something she could do to smooth out the agitation she knew Lana felt right now. It had been more than twenty-four hours since Kala had gone missing and that anxiety was just elevated due to Kristin's sudden cold. She didn't envy the redhead the stress. "Easy, boss. Even if Lois and Richard go haring off somewhere, Inspector Sawyer will keep you updated. We'll find her."

Her employer sighed. "I'm sorry, Kay. I just hate being kept out of the loop."

"Kala's your daughter, too," Kay replied simply. "Don't think anyone's gonna forget that. Speaking of daughters, how's the child of Lang?"

"Woozy on antibiotics, and even more in the dark than I am," Lana replied, sounding wrung out. "She wants her big sister home, _now_. And she's as stubborn as her father, so help me. Thankfully, she's down for another nap at the moment. I don't know if I can handle any more questions right now."

Kay smiled to herself, thinking that Kristin got stubbornness from both sides of her family tree. She also knew that her boss was worried to death about Kala, so much so that she'd left all the L. Lang business in Kay's capable hands until the teenager came home. The brunette decided not to add to Lana's worries by telling her about the phone call she'd had from Laurel earlier; if it was what they thought might be happening, she could handle it without Lana's help. Although she'd have a lot of explaining to do later if she was wrong…

There was another restless sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, Kay, I don't mean to be like this. Thank you for putting up with me."

That brought on another smile, this one just a little melancholy. It hurt to hear the strain in the other woman's voice. She'd known Lana a long time now and knew when she was trying to hold back for appearances' sake. "No problem," Kay told her, playing along. "You're a pretty cool boss – and besides, I get to borrow your dog whenever you've got too much going on to have him at the apartment. Here, Dusty, tell your mom Hi."

The beagle had been taught, during his many visits to the L. Lang offices, to howl whenever a phone was held toward him. He performed perfectly, as always, and Kay was rewarded by hearing Lana laugh on the other end of the line.

…

After a moment of silence while Kala refused to confirm or deny anything, Schecter continued, "Mr. Luthor copied the crystals he took from the Fortress. The only one we don't have is the control crystal – the one that has most of the AI programming. The copy was used to make New Krypton, and the original was stolen from Mr. Luthor and returned to your father."

Kala tried not to react to that, but he didn't seem to be watching for shock or denial. That answered her question about whether Luthor had shared his information about her with his employees, though.

Schecter continued, "Essentially, we have part of a highly sophisticated artificial intelligence. It's not complete enough to be reasoned with but it's too smart to be tricked, and while we managed to access some of the features, there are whole crystals that we can't get into. Our other Kryptonian guest managed to get us into a few new files – enough to keep R&D happy for the next year – but he told us that the program will only recognize the DNA of the House of El."

They had traveled down another corridor and stopped at a huge window. Kala caught her breath; the Fortress of Solitude was partly replicated within, and her heart ached for the real thing, for the impossible loveliness of pure white crystal creating that magical place in the middle of the vast Arctic.

This was, of course, only a small part: the control panel and one of the large flat crystals on which the images were shown. But Kala already knew what Schecter was asking of her. "You want me to go in there and access all the files for you," she said flatly. "Let me guess: knowing Luthor, he wants the weapons technology."

"He wants it all," Schecter corrected. "Every little forgotten useless bit of technology. But especially how the information is encoded on the crystals. As I understand it, the research department has learned a lot from studying what we have, but they've barely scratched the surface of what's there."

"Right," Kala was watching him dubiously. "Now tell me the rest."

"Not much else," Schecter said with a shrug. "You unlock the files, and Mr. Luthor will let you go. It's that simple."

Kala scoffed loudly at that. _How much of an idiot does this guy think I am? Riiight._ "Bullshit. It's never that simple. What does he _really_ want?"

"That's it," Schecter said. "The general can't or won't do what Mr. Luthor wants, so he's asking you. In my experience, Mr. Luthor keeps his word. If you play it straight with him, he'll do the same for you. Do what he wants, unlock those files, and you can go home."

In spite of the fact that she'd just run away, Kala wanted to go home more than anything else. Her struggles with her mother looked so insignificant from her current perspective. But she knew what would happen if she gave Luthor the keys to that kind of power. If her own father was sometimes worried about the temptation of the vast store of knowledge contained in those crystals, then what would someone like Luthor do? Kala shivered; there was no way she could do this.

If she said that, though, Luthor would have no reason to keep her alive. "Let me think about it," she told Schecter cautiously.

"All right," he replied. "Perfectly understandable. Let me walk you back to your room."

Kala agreed, her mind churning as they walked. Her wrist ached less now that it was immobilized, but she was already worrying about taking the pain pills. If they were too strong, she'd be unconscious and helpless. If she didn't take them, though, she could look forward to a long night, during which she would have to think about Luthor's offer. She knew that giving him what he wanted would pretty much doom the entire world, but it was only a matter of time before loneliness, pain, and homesickness combined to weaken her resolve.

They soon arrived back at Kala's room, and Schecter punched a code into the panel beside the door. "Press your hand here," he instructed, and Kala did so, surprised to feel the slight warmth of Kryptonian crystal. It lit up briefly, and Schecter pressed another code into the panel. Kala saw now that it was marked with Kryptonian numbers and letters, and marveled at how pervasive the technology had become. "There," Schecter continued, "now you're the only one who can open this door from the outside. Well, besides the head of security. When someone tries to get in, you'll hear a chime and a panel on the wall inside will light up and show you who's out here. All you have to do to let them in is touch the panel."

"Nice." Kala's tone was dry as the Sahara, the teenager crossing her arms before sighing. "I'd still rather be at home, but at least I don't have to worry about every crazy ex-con trying to come in while I sleep. Who's the head of security, anyway?"

"Ms. Graves," Schecter told her. It seemed as though he would leave, but then turned to look at her seriously. "Oh, and one last thing. If I were you, I'd stay away from General Zod. He might've helped you today, but it's for his own ends. And quite frankly, he's the only person here who scares me."

Not really sure whether to trust the information she'd been given, Kala only nodded and watched him walk away from the doorway of her cell. She hesitated before entering the room. If she had to deal with this forced captivity, at least she had some tiny measure of safety. That is, if Schecter could be trusted. And she remembered all too well what happened the last time she thought she could trust someone on Luthor's staff. With that chilling thought in mind, Kala stepped into the room, the door sliding closed after her.

…

If it brought her daughter home safely, Lois would bear anything – the scathing comments meant for Kala's eyes only, and the inevitable anger when Kala found out about this betrayal. Resigning herself to whatever words lay ahead, Lois opened the journal.

As soon as she untied the decorative strap holding it shut, a photograph fell out of the back. Lois caught it, feeling that old flare of excitement at discovering something pertinent to an investigation. But when she turned the picture over, she felt her heart clench. A younger version of herself held a five-year-old Kala, the little girl pouting while her mother cradled her. Lois couldn't remember the circumstances, but she knew that sad look; Kala had been denied something she wanted, and as usual back then, she'd run to her mother for comfort.

The way things used to be … it looked like Kala missed those better days as much as Lois did. Where had it gone off-track? She couldn't even remember when the tide had turned. Thinking back, it was as if she woke up one morning to discover that she could do no right by her own child. And there was no way to change that.

Lois swallowed the painful lump in her throat, blinked away the tears stinging her eyes. More than ever, she wanted her daughter back. She had to try harder, make Kala listen to her when they got her home. _**If**_ they got her home…

_Not now._ _Get her home first before you get maudlin and pathetic. There will be a time for dealing with this. This isn't it, Lois._

Lois stared longingly at the photo for another long moment before she made herself gently tuck the photo back into the journal and start scanning the pages, looking for a recent date.

Ruffling the pages, her eye caught the previous year in her daughter's exaggerated spidery script – thankfully Kala dated all the entries in the upper corner of each page – and Lois flipped to December. She braced herself for any hurtful entries, knowing that things had not been the best between the two of them for a time, but was surprised to find that Kala had been in pretty good humor through the season, several entries snarking about Jason and the choices he'd made on the majority of his presents – "I forget that Dopey has absolutely no sense of color _**at all.**_ Then again, I have to say that it's a plus for me this time, since I know for a fact that Giselle will look totally washed out in that shade of pink! (insert evil laugh here)" – had her laughing with pure amusement that made her heart ache.

Despite their recent differences, Lois could see the Kala she had always known in these words. It was clear in the passages, words she didn't think anyone would ever read, that most of Kala's façade was just that. She tried her hardest to hide her feelings, especially when they had been stepped on, but it was mostly for show. And she hadn't missed the tension between her parents lately. "I can't stand it when they start in on each other," that one read. "And for stupid reasons, too. I hate seeing Daddy's face after they've acted dumb. Why don't they just deal with the fact that they have a perfect marriage and get on with it? I mean, didn't they go through all kinds of trouble and static from the Giant Floating Head to be together? Lord, _**be happy and get over it**_!"

_It probably does look idiotic to a sixteen-year-old_, Lois thought, biting her lower lip. _And we thought we were covering up all of this pretty well. Well, neither of them has ever been unobservant at any point in their lives, so why is this a surprise? _Being rational about it didn't help, though. She'd hoped, in an admittedly blind and dense way, that she and Kal-El's issues would be mostly unnoticed, and she hurt to know that the twins were all too aware of it.

Making herself read on, she scanned the next few pages for any clues without letting herself read too deeply into their meaning. Kala's perception of her mother's life made it clear just how little she really understood the real world, how adult relationships worked. _Not everything stays perfect_ _forever_, she thought with an almost defensive cynicism. _And not every__**one**__ stays perfect. Things change_. _The real world interferes_. Even as she thought it, Lois felt absolutely heartless. Just the thought was enough make her close her eyes for a moment, feeling something sink inside her. Was this the point she was at, making excuses for the cracks in her marriage? Better to write it off than deal with it? That's why she had waited so long to look for Kala's journal, wasn't it? Nothing better than someone putting a mirror up to your face to make you see what you couldn't bear to. And who better for that than Kala?

_Dammit, stop. Just stop it! You were just trying not to cry over how much you love the girl, about how much you miss those moments between you, and now you're being needlessly vicious. How could you be so confused about your own feelings for your child? _

Fighting back the urge to scream in frustration, Lois won against the storm of emotion brewing fleetingly before she flipped to an entry dated 12/28. The first line captured her torn heart, and once started, seeing it in Kala's own writing, the reporter couldn't look away.

_Today someone compared me to Mom for the 4,796,342__nd__ time. Yes, dear diary, I __AM__ dork enough to keep count._

_Not really, but if you can't exaggerate wildly in real life, there's always your journal._

_Anyway. Uncle Perry didn't say a word about my outfit when Lizardboy and I came over with the 'rents, but as soon as I was out of earshot - or so he thought – he muttered to mom about how her taste in shoes was obviously genetic, and woe to the world at that. Pfff. Mom __NEEDS__ six-inch heels, I just wear 'em cause I like looking down at boys. It freaks them out so much, I just can't quit._

_But these were my sweet black calf boots, the ones with the silver chain on the left ankle. I love them like whoa and damn, seriously. I'd marry those boots. One time a guy at school even said he'd lick them, which is totally unhygienic, but whatever, boys are weird._

_Now I can't wear them because mom had a pair just like that when she was living with Uncle Perry. Wonderful. No matter what I do, I'm following in her footsteps. The harder I try not to be like her, the more people compare us. _

_Seriously, What the hell? I don't want to live the rest of my life in her shadow! Mom's cool and all, but I'm. not. HER! I'm half my father, too, and the daughter of Superman shouldn't have this hard of a time just trying not to be a carbon copy of her mom…_

_Sometimes I'm afraid that, in spite of everything, I will grow up to be nothing more than a pale imitation of my mother. Lois Lane light, half the awesome of the original._

_Screw this, diary. I'm gonna call Sebast over and we're gonna watch bad Mexican horror movies all night and eat way too much popcorn. Kala out._

Lois heard herself whimper, her hand going to her mouth as she leaned forward. Maybe it could have hurt more if she had heard it aloud, Kala there in front of her, but it didn't seem possible. Likely, she would have written it off as yet another temper tantrum. But here, in a diary that she never expected another soul to read, Kala had no reason to lie. And in light of Kala's furious protests over any comparisons between them, this struck to the core. She had never known that this was what Kala was so hurt about. This wasn't what she had wanted for her daughter. What was worse was the knowledge that, of all occurrences that she had tried to protect her from, just being her daughter had inadvertently caused Kala more pain than she would have expected.

There really were no words for the emotion that overwhelmed Lois then. If the road to Hell was truly paved with good intentions, she had never believed it more than she did now. Unable to hold back any longer, the journal fell from her lap to the floor. Lois' wracking sobs were the only thing that broke the silence of the empty apartment.

…

In all the years Richard known him he had never seen Clark quite this single-minded. From the moment the other man had returned to the subway, he'd been fixated on one goal: finding out where Luthor had taken his daughter. "We need to dig out all those notes we made ten years ago," said the taller man, staring out the windshield at something Richard couldn't see. Even Clark's voice was tense, his fixation of his goal clear with every word. "And we're going to need to check into property records again, see what else he's been up to."

"The notes are still in the _Planet _archives," Richard offered just as somberly as they got into his convertible. As terrifying as the concept of Luthor having their little was, at least now that had a lead. Something to fight against other than shadow. And God help Luthor when they found him this time. He took out his cell phone and slid it into the holder on the dashboard, telling Clark, "Speed-dial 4 is Lois' cell phone. Have her meet us there."

Richard's bluetooth speakerphone came on automatically as soon as Clark dialed, broadcasting the ringing phone through the car as Richard merged into traffic. As exacted, she picked up on the second ring. "Hey Richard," Lois answered abruptly, clearing her throat. "What news?"

Her voice sounded a little off to him, tight and tense as if she'd been crying. She couldn't hold it in forever. Better that she did it now rather than letting it build until it made her crazy. I know it's killing her… But before Richard could even open his mouth to ask what was wrong, Clark was answered her question. "Luthor's behind all this," he said. "They found Kala's sunglasses in the subway. I went to check up on it…"

As Clark recounted the story of springing Luthor's kryptonite trap, which Richard had already heard, the younger man frowned to realize that he was editing out Diana's part in all this. Richard had _seen_ Wonder Woman soar past, he'd heard how her quick reflexes had saved Clark from injury, so why wasn't Lois hearing the same story?

_Because she's already jealous,_ he answered himself. _And Clark's trying to keep her from being even more upset. Poor, naïve guy – when Lois sees it in the paper, she'll wonder why he didn't tell her, and then she'll be even __**more**__ suspicious. I'm beginning to see how his totally innocent friendship with a coworker can be hugely misconstrued. I've gotta talk to the man about how to manage a jealous spouse…_

"So when I got back, Bruce and Diana had picked up the investigation," Clark was saying. This part was new to Richard, and piqued his interest. "Kala wasn't down there for long. Whoever took her got her onto a train car of some kind – the old tracks have been used recently. The cops and the League are working on trying to find out where that train car could've gone."

"If they were moving her around, wouldn't you have heard her heartbeat? You've been listening constantly." She sounded worried, not accusatory, and Richard knew she had to be wondering the same thing he was. _How could you not hear her … as long as she was alive?_

"Bruce figured that one out, too," Clark replied evenly, and his voice went cold. "Part of his job is managing the strike files on all of us. If anything ever happened to me – if I wasn't myself, if I turned dangerous – soundproofing wouldn't be enough to hide you and the kids from me. But there are several different drugs used to treat cardiac problems that, if given to a healthy patient, will actually induce arrhythmia. It's dangerous, but it would work."

Lois swore extensively and creatively, finishing with, "Whichever of those sonofabitches did it is going to regret that when, not if, I get them in my sights."

"Until then," Clark said, his tone never changing, "we need to find Luthor. Richard and I are heading for the _Planet_ to dig through the archives. Meet us there?"

There was a pause, both men knowing she had to be glancing at her watch. "Be there in fifteen. I just have to tell Jason where I'm going."

"Call Lana and tell her, too," Richard put in, piloting the Saab toward Reeve Plaza's private parking garage. "We're gonna be pulling in in just a minute, and I don't get a signal there."

"No big deal," was Lois' response. "She was on the other line when you called, and she's still holding. We were talking about having Jason come stay with you two tonight so I could look into a lead. Sounds like I should warn him to pack a bag just in case."

Clark was nodding slightly. It was starting to sound like he had been thinking along the same lines. "Not a bad idea, honey. See you soon."

…

Lana had hung up the phone with Lois after hearing about the reporters' plans. The news that Luthor had definitely returned to haunt them all depressed her, and she turned on the television for some distraction.

She hated feeling like she was useless, just sitting around the house while everyone else tried to find Kala. She hadn't even been in the original search parties, sending her assistant out instead. Nothing else could have made her feel more like a lazy millionairess than that little fact.

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _They all need you right now – you're always the level-headed one, always the person who stops and thinks while everyone else is rushing off trying to save the world. You're the one they all turn to for emotional support, too. You can't get maudlin and self-recriminating now._

Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push aside the fear and worry clouding her mind. It didn't seem to work, and when she opened them again in resignation, she realized the television was tuned to one of those hyper-dramatized talk shows she detested. _It's not as if I'm actually watching it, anyway,_ she thought with annoyance, and pressed the remote to turn it off.

In the suddenly dark screen, she saw the reflection of the room around her. That wasn't a surprise, but the tall, dark-skinned woman standing _right behind_ the couch certainly was. Lana gasped in shock, adrenaline pouring into her veins.

The stranger was holding a knife, its blade the only bright spot in the reflection. Lana whipped around, her eyes wide, and saw that she wasn't imagining things. There really was an armed woman in the room with her, just a few feet away, and the intruder looked as shocked to have been discovered as Lana was to see her.

Lana panicked and bolted for the patio door. It happened so quickly, she didn't even make a sound, didn't think about yelling for Clark. Overwhelmed by pure fear, Lana's mind had gone utterly blank except for escape and survival.

* * *


	25. When The World Falls Down

**I'm not even sure I can write an intro to this. I can only warn you that this is just the beginning of the intensity that will follow the rest of this story. Be warned. No one is safe.**

* * *

Back at the precinct, Maggie and Dan Turpin were currently scrutinizing newly-arrived photos of the subway where Kala's glasses had been found. "Allright, so they took her within an hour or two of her leaving the apartment," Maggie said thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and staring intently at the images, trying to find something, _anything,_ that they could have missed. "And they _knew_ Superman would get involved; the kryptonite proves that."

"Big Blue's always been pretty protective of Lois and her kids," Dan Turpin added. The two were trying to brainstorm; they'd been reacting to events for far too long, and if they were going to find Kala, they had to start thinking ahead of her captors.

"Yeah." Maggie steepled her fingers against her finger, pensive. "What gets me is this – they could've just snatched her out of the apartment. Lois' security is good, but these are pros. If they could take down Kala without anyone noticing – and she's been to kickboxing class with her mom, it couldn't have been easy – they could've broken in. So why wait for her to walk out on her own?"

"Trying to mislead us and make us waste time treating it as a runaway?" Dan offered.

That was immediately challenged with another question. "Ah, but how would they know exactly when she left?"

The burly cop shrugged then. "Hell, how would they know she was gonna run? Her own parents didn't know."

That made Maggie glance up at him with a sad smile. "Parents often don't," the Inspector sighed, feeling the ache of her own history with Jamie.

"Yeah, but this isn't just two kids, two parents, and one dog," Dan responded. "There's a whole damn network with the Lanes. Shit, _you_ know the kid better than most people know their friends' kids. You even got invited to the swanky birthday party."

That reminder was enough to make Maggie abruptly alert, a fierce light burning in her glacial blue eyes. "You're right," she whispered, considering his point. Her mind was going a mile a minute then. "There _is_ a whole network of people – friends, relatives, coworkers, acquaintances, enough people to fill the Centennial ballroom for a sixteenth birthday party. The extended family is _huge_."

"Yeah?" Dan had known her long enough to recognize that feral gleam, the sudden surge of energy the instant it happened. He couldn't resist a grin. Maggie was on the hunt again.

"So how many of these people do we really _know_?" she said, sitting up at alarming speed, whipping her chair back to face her computer screen. The keys clacked wildly as she continued, never looking up. "I mean, Cat and Tobie go way back, and Lana and Richard are trustworthy. Lucy and Ron and their kids are blood relatives. But there's a whole bunch more that we don't know a damn thing about. Dan, the _only_ way they could know when Kala left is if they had someone on the inside."

"There's a mole," he said, and he'd caught her excitement. "We can get that guest list, right? It won't cover _everybody,_ but it'll be a start."

"Dan, you're a genius. Do it. We'll run background checks on every one of them."

…

It was supposed to be quick, simple, and relatively clean. Hope had let herself into the apartment silently, keeping out of sight while Lana Lang paced and made phone calls. She couldn't hear exactly what the designer was saying from her position in the pantry, but she knew when Lana finally settled down in the living room.

After much discussion with Luthor, Mercy had finally contacted Hope with the orders. Of the four in the family, Lana was the weakest link. Clark Kent was somehow invulnerable to attack, Richard White was former military, and Lois Lane was not to be harmed no matter what – Luthor had a personal interest in her. So the designer was the target. Hope's mission was intended to utterly demoralize the family, and as such a simple shot from a sniper wouldn't do. No, Mercy wanted a gruesome scene; she wanted everyone in the family to have traumatic flashbacks for years.

That was why Hope had decided to just walk up on Lana silently, grab a handful of that long red hair, and yank her head back. One quick flick of the knife would open her throat, and she'd be dead in seconds, leaving the kind of gory spectacle that not even cops could get used to. If she stood at the right angle, Hope could even avoid getting any blood on herself.

All of those plans had evaporated the moment Lana switched off the television. Hope had suddenly been revealed, and the redhead had reacted much quicker than she'd expected. Swearing under her breath, Hope made it to the patio door before Lana could get it open, taking a swipe at her with the knife.

The designer yelped when her arm was laid open, and abruptly reversed direction. Hope slashed at her again, catching her across the ribs as she turned, and a stride later she managed to grab a lock of Lana's hair. Unfortunately, the designer had already reached the sofa and decided to vault it instead of going around, so Hope wound up yanking out that handful of hair. Lana landed running in spite of the pain and bolted for the front door.

Hope was hot on her heels and managed to head her off at the hallway, getting in another slash as Lana tried to avoid her. The designer ducked into the kitchen, probably hoping to exit that room into the front hall and thus get to the door. Hope had familiarized herself with the layout, however, and beat her there.

Now she had Lana penned in the corner of the kitchen, the redhead panting, her eyes glazed in terror. Hope moved in to finish it, but the designer got her arm up in time, and only took another deep cut to her arm. She was bleeding freely from both arms, her side, and her scalp now, the floor tiles spattered. As Lana leaned against the counter behind her, bracing herself in that corner, blood smeared on the pale granite.

"You're just making this harder on yourself," Hope said with angry annoyance. She darted in with the knife, and Lana managed to block it again, letting out a pained cry as fresh blood welled up. "Knock it off. You know you don't have a chance in hell of getting away. Just hold still and this will all be over…"

The redhead's face showed no comprehension, her expression blank with fear. Her arms were trembling, though, and Hope figured this couldn't last much longer. Shock and blood loss would do her opponent in shortly. She raised the knife again, ready to make short feinting slashes until she had an opportunity for a lethal blow. It didn't matter if it was the relatively clean slice across the throat anymore – she'd gut the woman if she had to, just to get this over with.

Just then, a tremulous voice from the back of the apartment called out, "M-Mommy? What's being so noisy?" Hope froze, her stomach sinking – Lana was supposed to be alone in the apartment! Knowing Luthor, she'd have to do the kid now, too.

She had glanced away from her target for an instant at the sound of the other voice. When Hope turned her attention back to the redhead, Lana's expression had changed completely. The frozen terror was gone, replaced by such boiling wrath that Hope was momentarily taken aback. She didn't even have time to react as Lana grabbed the knife blade in one hand, and brought the other around in a flat arc, holding something she'd grabbed off the counter behind her…

…

General Zod reclined in a chair that reminded him faintly of Kryptonian décor, and pondered his situation. It was slightly more promising than before, if a little more galling.

He never let himself forget that he was, _still_, in prison. First the Phantom Zone, then a brief period of liberty, followed by confinement in human prisons. Stripped of his powers, it was humiliating to be merely mortal after so few days of being a god. But imprisonment _had _taught him patience, and caution. He learned, through intense scrutiny of his surroundings, how to predict human behavior, and then how to manipulate it. Gradually Zod had convinced his captors he was on the road to rehabilitation, and he was transferred to less-secure facilities, given more privileges. Human society had forgotten the Kryptonian villains, sweeping the whole debacle under the rug. None of the trio had ever been confined at Stryker's Island with its special facilities for metahumans. After all, none of them had powers…

As he was allowed out of his cell more often, Zod took every opportunity to soak up the rays of this planet's yellow sun. He always felt better in sunlight, and over time the general began to feel his powers returning.

Just the faintest trickle, at first; a hint more strength, senses a shade keener than they'd been the day before. Small signs, but he welcomed them. Realizing what it meant, he'd even humbled himself to join a work detail. The ignominy was worth the extra hours in the sun. Zod had wondered if Ursa and Non were experiencing a similar return of their powers, but all his efforts could not get a message to Ursa, and Non had lost the ability to read when he'd lost his powers of speech.

He'd learned that Ursa at least was recovering her powers – she attempted to escape three years ago. But while she'd acquired speed and strength enough to evade her guards, she wasn't yet invulnerable. She had been shot down just outside the perimeter fence.

That had come as a crushing blow. If there was anyone in all the galaxies fit to rule at Zod's side, it had been Ursa, and thanks to simple miscalculation, she was gone forever. He had kept his rage hidden, presenting a sorrowful mask to the psychologists who interviewed him, and was thankful at least that none of these moronic humans figured out _how_ Ursa had gotten beyond the fence. They did not suspect he was regaining his powers; at the time, he'd thought he would be able to escape in five years, perhaps ten. Time meant little; Zod wore his age lightly, and patience was his best hope. Rash action had gotten him into this mess in the first place, and only careful calculation would get him out.

Or so he'd thought. But then, a year after Ursa's death, Zod had gotten a visitor. At first, the cold-eyed blonde had claimed to be from his lawyer's office. That had gotten her past the guards to see him, but Zod didn't believe her. After a brief attempt to bluff him, she'd told him the truth – she was Mercy Graves, an associate of Lex Luthor.

Oh, that name. If there was any human Zod loathed as much as he hated Jor-El, it was Luthor. Jor-El, at least, was a noble son of Krypton – monstrously arrogant in his defiance, rigidly fixed in his ridiculous 'principles', and a hypocrite who berated others for their lack of vision while ignoring his own massive blind spot. Luthor, however, was nothing more than a human cur – a slinking beast that alternately fawned over and snapped at the hand that fed it. Motivated by greed and lust for power, he had no honor, no loyalty, no shred of any virtue a Kryptonian could respect.

What Luthor _did_ have, as Mercy explained, was a pressing need for a native speaker of Kryptonese. For the right translator, he could offer many things: freedom, for a start. And eventually, a deeper and more thorough revenge against Kal-El.

Understandably intrigued, Zod had discussed it with her at some length. He was well aware of Luthor's tendency to double-cross his allies, but considered it a worthwhile risk. That was before he was smuggled out of prison, his death faked, only to arrive at the research facility and discover that Luthor had left out a few details of the arrangement. Such as the fact that this was essentially just another prison, and here, his jailer carried kryptonite.

Zod had expected as much, and relied on Luthor's short-sighted arrogance as well as his own wits. His captivity had not been entirely unpleasant – the scientists respected him, and the security staff feared him. Luthor himself had been gloating over the reversal of their fortunes since the moment Zod arrived, and the general mostly ignored him. He dared not harm Zod, and Zod would not kill him. Yet.

Their uneasy détente now had a new factor thrown in. The daughter of Kal-El … granddaughter of Jor-El. Kala Kal-El, Last Daughter of Krypton. Zod had not had much time to form an opinion of her, but so far his first impressions were favorable. She spoke their language, albeit with a noticeable human accent, and she was defiant in the face of overwhelming odds. She also had sense enough to recognize Luthor as her deadliest enemy, and yet was wise enough not to trust Zod himself immediately.

Her style of dress met with Zod's approval as well – all black, much like his own preference, though she showed entirely too much skin for Zod's taste. It did not truly befit a Kryptonian to reveal so much, he thought. Ah well, perhaps it was a feminine trait – Ursa had had much the same impulse in her clothing choices.

Decision made, Zod rose and walked to the crystal panel just inside his own room. He smiled slowly; Luthor and his scientists did not yet understand _everything_ about the crystals. They had learned how information could be stored and displayed on them, and begun to explore the crystals' potential for growth. Encoding that growth to take a specific form was considered as much art as science on Krypton; Zod had made sure to wax lyrical about it, impressing the humans with the complexity of the process.

But one thing he had _not_ mentioned to Luthor was the resonant capability of the crystals. All of the growth from one seed crystal shared certain properties, including resonating at a frequency and amplitude particular to that batch of crystal. Thus Kal-El's Fortress worked together as one unit, all of the massive crystals channeling the sun's rays down to its power source. In essence, the structure communicated with all of its parts, coordinating the shifts in power.

Zod laid his hand against the crystal panel, knowing it had been grown from the same seed as the panel outside – and that both matched the inner and outer panels on Kala's room. Luthor and his men imagined that these sensitive liquid crystal screens contained only the programming for the doors, but they were wrong. Once the panel lit up, Zod withdrew his hand and flicked it with a fingernail.

The crystal chimed, its sound muted, and the display wavered before showing a schematic of the hall. The panel he had touched was lit up, and Zod merely had to lightly touch the image of the one in Kala's room to activate it.

Even now, that panel was chiming in answer, and it would surely capture Kala's attention. This technology had been used on Krypton to send messages as well as to secure the inhabitant's homes; why use two separate devices when one would so easily serve both functions? Luthor's minions had never thought to strike the costly panels, thinking them as fragile as the limited human technology they superficially resembled.

"Kala Kal-El," Zod said, keeping his voice low and respectful. "I wish to speak with you. You may call upon me at your convenience." That was enough to pique her interest, but not enough to frighten her or to give her a firm grasp on his motives. He seated himself again, and awaited her response.

…

Lana felt light-headed as she staggered out of the kitchen. The last few minutes were a blur of fear and rage, and she wasn't really thinking anymore. Enough presence of mind remained for her to grab a dishtowel on her way out and scrub her face, getting the worst of it off her.

One thought dominated: _Kristin_. Lana made her way to her daughter's bedroom, leaning against the wall for support and unaware of the bloody handprints she left behind.

The little girl had gotten out of bed and come out to her doorway, bleary-eyed from her cold and the medicine she'd been given. "Mommy, what's goin' on? Was Dusty makin' a mess?" she murmured sleepily, though she was clearly worried by the loud sounds she'd heard. Then she looked up at Lana, her blue eyes wide and perplexed. "Mommy, what were you doing? You've got paint all over you. You didn't say you were going to paint today." Even as Kristin said it, fear started to trickle in.

"It's okay, sweetie, it'll wash off," Lana soothed, and was shocked to hear her voice come out as a reedy whisper. Relief washed through her at seeing her child safe and sound, and it took the last of her strength with it. She managed to slide to her knees instead of falling, and hugged Kristin to her. Her daughter couldn't know what happened. She had to act as though she had a made a little mess with paint in the kitchen. "It's okay, it's all gonna be okay, everything's fine now."

Kristin sniffled and clung tightly to her, not quite believing those reassurances. Neither of them paid any attention to the blood that streaked Lana's arms and soaked her blouse. It was already staining the carpet beneath them.

…

"How are things going?" Luthor asked, hovering anxiously behind Mercy. A wireless receiver rested against her ear, looking much like a common Bluetooth accessory but designed for use with L-Tech's proprietary satellite communicators.

"On which front?" she asked. In front of her was a screen showing Kala's room; the girl was standing up, looking at the door, which unfortunately wasn't in the camera's view. Mercy switched to the hall camera, but no one was outside. "I can't tell what she's looking at."

"We don't have to worry about her for now," Luthor said. "What about her family?"

"There's no word yet from Hope." That said, Mercy glanced at the clock. She frowned. "I expected her to check in by now. How long does it take to kill a designer?"

"Maybe there were complications?" Luthor surmised.

"Let's go to plan B, just in case," Mercy said.

…

Kala stared at the panel beside her door. Zod's voice alone had unnerved her, and his politely-worded request only discomfited her more. What could he want from her? Kala paced, cradling her arm, as she considered her options.

First of all, Zod was not just an enemy. He was _the_ enemy, the one her parents had feared the most, a being with all of Superman's powers and none of his humanity. He and his followers had killed people just because they could. Add to that the fact that he had sworn vengeance on the House of El, and Zod was absolutely the last person Kala would've trusted.

But he'd rescued her. Zod had taken her side against Luthor's goons, and he clearly hated Luthor. Unless this was all an elaborate setup to make her trust Zod…

Not likely, Kala decided. Luthor had seemed genuinely furious, and Zod's loathing seemed very genuine. It was a possibility to keep in mind, but for the moment, she had to assume at least _something_ was true.

Schecter had warned her about Zod, claiming the general only served his own interests. Well, that certainly fit with Zod's past behavior, but the mere fact that one of Luthor's employees was telling her to avoid him was actually a point in Zod's favor. Whatever Luthor wanted Kala to do, she probably ought to do the opposite, since Luthor definitely didn't have her best interests in mind.

But still. _Zod._ A criminal so bent on domination that the Kryptonian council had condemned him to eternal living death in the Phantom Zone. A villain who would have stripped her father of his powers and kept him as a slave, a permanent reminder of Zod's superiority over Jor-El. A man with every reason to hate Kala, and he was inviting her over for a polite chat?

Even if she did decide to speak with him, she had to be wary. Zod had to want something from her; that much of Schecter's warning she believed. The question was, what was it? And more importantly, if Kala accepted his invitation and walked into that room, would she be able to walk out again?

Zod had powers, but so did she. Kala remembered a time not long ago when she'd raced her father through a field of winter wheat on the outskirts of Smallville. They'd been closely matched, Kala suspecting that he had held back for her sake. But then, as they crossed a meadow, she'd heard the bark of gunfire somewhere nearby.

Deer season was supposed to be over, but apparently at least one hunter thought the law didn't apply to him. The blast startled Kala, and she'd been in a fey mood anyway, energized by the slanting sunlight and the chill air with its scent of snow. At the gunshot, Kala had taken off, hitting her full speed. It seemed like she crossed the meadow in an instant, the withered grass a blur beneath her feet.

The trees on the other side had slowed her down, and only then had her father caught up to her. He'd looked worried, and Kala hoped the hunter hadn't seen them. Only later, when she was racing home from her disastrous evening with Nick, did she realize just how fast she was. She didn't have Superman's endurance, but she'd beaten him in a very brief sprint.

She had speed enough to evade him, and his strength meant nothing if he couldn't even get his hands on her. Kala realized she was preparing herself to go see what Zod wanted; all the pros and cons had sorted themselves out in the back of her mind. He wasn't trustworthy – but he had saved her. So she was going to talk to him.

Steeling herself, Kala took a deep breath and went to the door.

…

Deep in the _Daily Planet _archives, Lois flipped through the old articles on Luthor, looking for clues about where he might have taken Kala. Richard and Clark were involved in the same task, though Clark was focused so tightly on it that he'd tuned out the rest of the world. Never before had Lois had to call his name more than twice to get his attention. His intensity made her feel sick with guilt; sooner or later, she'd have to tell him about her deal with Luthor. She'd been spared that so far by Clark's independent discovery of Luthor's involvement, but the truth would have to come out eventually.

Lois' cell phone rang, and she answered it with a distracted, "Hi, Lana." But before the reporter could ask what was up, the redhead spoke.

"Lois?" Lana's voice sounded off, dreamy, as if she didn't know who she'd called. "Oh. Lois. I think … there might be some trouble…"

Clark's head snapped up then, meeting the apprehensive glance his wife gave him. Lois already didn't like Lana's weird pauses, or the faintness of her tone. "Lana? Are you okay?" she asked, her heart in her throat. _Oh, God. Something else has happened._

"No…" came the answer, and then Clark was simply gone, papers blowing in his wake. Lana continued in the same faraway tone, "Lois, I think you … might want … to call Maggie… I don't…"

Ice-cold fear raised gooseflesh up her arms then, just from way Lana's voice seemed to drift. "Lana, hold on," Lois said urgently, trying to control her panic. Richard had come to her side after Clark's sudden departure, and he was reaching for the phone. Before he could even ask what was happening, Lois held her hand out to him first. "Gimme your keys, Richard. We have to go. _Now._"

"Why?" he said, snatching them out of his pocket and slapping them into her palm. They headed for the door at speed. His voice rising with fear, he demanded, "Lois, what's going on? What's happened?"

Lana's voice was growing softer, more distant now. "Oh. Nine one one… I should … call…"

"No, honey, stay with me," Lois insisted, taking off at a run for the elevators once they had made it into the main basement corridor. Something told her that just knew the instant it took her to hand it over to Richard, the redhead would hang up or drop the phone. She had to keep Lana on the phone, had to keep her talking. He was right behind her, silent and afraid.

Lana didn't answer, and Lois raised her voice a little, wrestling the terror that tried to creep into her voice. "Lana? Dammit, Cheerleader, don't you dare hang up this phone. Stay with me, _please_."

That roused her, the redhead murmuring, "What's…? Someone's … here…"

"_Lana, stay with me, do you hear me? Stay with me!_" Lois pleaded, holding down the elevator button. Thankfully a car was near their floor, and Lois knew the trick to make the elevator car go directly to her chosen floor without stopping for anyone else. She and Richard headed to the parking deck as fast as the elevator would take them.

"Sorry, Lo… I…" And then the phone clicked, the call lost.

"_FUCK!" _The swear echoed loudly through the mostly-empty garage as Lois resisted the urge to throw the phone, attacking the redial button in irate dread. "Dammit, Lana, you better not…"

That was enough for make Richard grab her shoulder roughly, his expression plainly terrified. "Lois, talk to me! What the hell is going on? What's wrong with Lana?"

"I don't know," she snapped at him, jerking away, her phone ringing steadily. "We're wasting time. Something's wrong – we need to be there _right now_. We're taking your car, and I'm driving. Call Maggie on your line, tell her to get her ass to your apartment _yesterday_."

Swearing under his breath, Richard did as she told him to, while Lois listened to the answering service pick up. "Damn you, Lana, you can be more stubborn than I am," she whispered as she redialed again. "Don't you dare give up. Don't you _dare_."

Lois and Richard got to the basement in record time, both of them running for his parking spot. Lois dove into the driver's seat, hurriedly adjusted it so she could floor the accelerator, and peeled out of the garage. For once, Richard didn't say a word about her driving or about his beloved convertible. He was too busy trying to get Lana to pick up. "She's not answering," he muttered agitatedly.

"She said she was gonna call emergency," Lois replied with forced calm, threading the sleek silver car between two taxis. "They probably won't let her get off the line. And Clark's already there."

"It's Luthor, isn't it?" Richard asked dully. "Has to be. But why would he go after Lana? She's never done anything to him…"

Lois felt tears welling up, and angrily dashed them away. She couldn't answer Richard; she knew exactly why Luthor had done this. He intended to make her suffer, and striking out at someone so close to her – someone who wasn't used to the idea of defending herself – it was just the kind of cruelty Luthor would devise.

Her phone rang, and she answered it with a curt, "Not now."

"This is important," Tobie Raines snapped, and when Lois didn't hang up, she continued, "Have you heard from Lana today?"

Warily, Lois replied, "She called a few minutes ago. Why?"

"Because I just got an anonymous tip, and so did Cat," Tobie said. "A digitized voice saying Lana Lang had been murdered."

Lois swore even more graphically than before. "I can't say anything, Tobe. But I'm on my way there right now." The _Daily Star_ editor cursed as Lois hung up the phone.

They scorched up to the Whites' apartment building, Lois leaving the Saab illegally parked on the curb. The flashing lights of police cruisers and an ambulance painted the afternoon in lurid colors as Lois and Richard ran into the lobby. They were stopped by uniformed police officers, but flashing their press passes got them by – the cops knew whom to expect.

Richard made it to his own front door slightly ahead of Lois, and would have barreled through if Maggie Sawyer hadn't been standing there. She blocked him and Lois both, snapping, "This is a _crime scene_," before adding in a softer voice, "she's gonna be fine."

Richard had been kept in suspense for far too long, and he tried to shove past the policewoman. That move got him pinned to the wall in the foyer, Maggie's forearm across his throat. Lois took the opportunity to slip past, Maggie warning her, "Be cool, Lane."

Lois never spoke, only nodded with acknowledgement and disappeared into the apartment.

Richard, of course, didn't take this well. It didn't matter at that moment if it was a friend holding him back. Trying to pull her arm away from his chest, Richard growled, "Maggie, let me go. I want to see my wife."

"You will," Maggie said, holding him still. "Richard, calm down, you will. I just don't want you to go in the kitchen, all right? All right? I have to preserve the evidence. And don't freak out when you see Lana. Most of the blood on her isn't hers."

That brought around another wave of panic and rebellion. "What do you mean, _most_ of the blood?" Richard tried to struggle again, and Maggie glared at him until he stopped.

"The EMTs just got her settled down and coherent. Don't get her all stirred up again, okay? She's gonna be fine. It looks a hell of a lot worse than it is."

With that, she finally released him, and Richard bolted down the hall toward Kristin's room. Lois had made it there first and was kneeling on the bloodied carpet, holding Lana's hand gingerly while two EMTs worked on her.

Richard had to catch his breath; it was a good thing Maggie had warned him. Lana was literally soaked in blood. Her hair was black with it, her blouse was drenched, and though she'd obviously tried to clean up her face, blood still stained her skin. Those sea-green eyes he adored were currently dazed, and it took a moment for Lana to register his presence.

"_Richard!_" She flung herself into his arms, surprising Lois and the EMTs by moving that fast, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Lana, love," he whispered, his voice choked, unmindful of the blood now soaking his shirt. She started to sob brokenly, clinging to him, and the rest of the world might as well not have existed for the two of them.

Lois got up and edged over to Maggie, catching the inspector's arm. "Mags, where's Kristin?" she whispered, her heart icy at the thought.

But the blonde smiled and pointed to the ceiling. "We weren't the first responders this time," she says. "Your big blue boy scout managed not to mess up my crime scene, but he got Little K out. Said he'd take her to your son. She's not hurt – she's got some blood on her, but it's either Lana's or the attacker's."

The relief on the reporter's face at this news was palpable. "What happened?" Lois asked, letting out the deep breath she had taken and taking in what she could see of the apartment. The drips and smears of blood along the walls and carpet were gruesome enough, but she had learned enough police procedure and forensics to know Lana hadn't been attacked in here.

"This is all off the record, of course," Maggie said, giving Lois the raised eyebrow that meant she was speaking as one friend to another, not a cop to reporter. "Best we can tell, this woman got in here somehow, and attacked Lana in the living room. She had a knife, and there's blood spatter from where the attack occurred all the way into the kitchen, so Lana saw her and ran for the front door. The perp caught her in the kitchen, cornered her…"

She trailed off, looking at Richard. The EMTs were trying to pry him and Lana apart so they could continue working on Lana. Maggie pulled Lois out to the foyer before continuing quietly, "The perp picked a bad place to pin Lana. The way I figure it, Lana suddenly decided to fight back, and the knife block was right behind her. She grabbed that big chef's knife and cut the attacker's throat. Damn near took her head off. That's where most of the blood on Lana came from."

Lois heard admiration and uneasiness in those words. She was shocked; she would never have imagined that kind of violence from _Lana_. Herself, well, that seemed more likely. But then, Lana _was_ protecting her daughter…

Maggie finished, "Then Lana took a dish towel, wiped most of the blood off her face, and went to her daughter – there's a blood trail down the hall here. I guess that's how Supes found them."

"Damn," Lois murmured. "Any idea who the attacker was?"

Maggie shook her head, her frustration with her answer clear. "Not yet. No ID on her."

At that moment, Lois' phone rang again, and Sawyer went to go help the EMTs. She pointed out that Lana had a wound completely through her left hand, and the redhead stared at it, dumfounded. At least it made her more cooperative.

Meanwhile, Lois saw Tobie's number on the caller ID as she answered her phone. "Listen, Raines, this is a bad time."

"No shit," was her response. "What's going on?"

"Tobie, I can't talk right now…" Lois watched Lana lay down on a stretcher at last, one of the EMTs holding up an IV bag, and she heard a helicopter approaching. She realized someone must've called Life-Flight.

"Listen, is Lana really okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Lois said with a sigh, eyes on the redhead and Richard. "More shaken up than anything else. I really can't talk about it…"

"So she _was_ attacked? What the hell is this bullshit?" All of Tobie's worry came out in her anxious profanity; all of the girls, except Lana and Lucy, had the habit of swearing prolifically under stress. "Seriously, who the goddamn hell is trying to kill the nicest damn designer on the planet? You or me, I'd understand, we piss people off for kicks, but _Lana_? Lois, do you have any clue what's going on? Wait…"

Richard held his wife's hand and Maggie walked beside the stretcher as the EMTs started to wheel her toward the patio door. From where Lois stood, she could see the afternoon light pouring incongruously into the living room as they took Lana out to get on the helicopter.

"What the _fuck_?" Tobie snarled. "Lois, another anonymous caller just tipped us. Now the story is Lana's alive and she killed somebody?"

Lois had a precious crystalline moment of realization, where her very hair seemed to be standing on end. There was only one reason for a tip like that to come in just at that precise moment. "Oh God," Lois whispered, and dropped the phone.

Then she bolted for the door, yelling, "Mags, _they can see you! Get __**down**__!_"

Maggie and Richard both seemed to turn around in slow motion, Lois' heart racing. This had all been a setup from the very beginning, and Luthor had someone watching the story unfold. Someone who could very well be armed … and the most vulnerable three of the four adult family members were right here together. Perfect opportunity for an assassin…

…

Jason had just gotten Bagel settled again – the poor dog was completely confused, her walking and feeding schedule utterly shot these past few days – when he heard the patio doors open. He was instantly alert, running into the living room just in time to be utterly shocked by what he saw: his father in uniform, carrying Kristin. The little girl was crying weakly … and covered in something red…

Kal-El's entire being should just how tightly he was reigning in his emotions, "Take your sister. Get her cleaned up – she's got _paint_ all over her dress."

"Wait, That's not…" Jason began to say as he held his arms out for her. The substance matted into Kristin's silky auburn hair and smeared on her clothes was _blood_, just barely tacky. A lot of blood, very fresh. His mouth dropped then, eyes going to his father's in horror. _**Blood**__? Why blood? And this much of it? What was going on here?_

Just the forbidding look of his father's face, one he had never seen before, was enough to strike him silent. "It's _paint_, Jason," he said commandingly, adding in whispered Kryptonese, "Do not upset her. It is not her blood."

_Just what the hell is going on? Why isn't Kristin with Lana? And __**where**__ did the blood come from?_ "What _happened_?" Jason asked in shock, holding Kristin close while he stared at the older man in disbelief.

"I will tell you everything later," Kal-El replied. "For now, take care of her." With that he flew off, and Jason was left with a very upset Little K.

Still stunned by the last few minutes, he wanted nothing more than to make his dad give him answers, but he knew Kristin was more important right then. Whatever happened, his baby sister was here and safe. She was clinging to him as tightly as her little body could manage and Jason returned the hug with equal measure. "Let's get you out of these clothes," he murmured into her ear, kissing her forehead, and carried her to the bathroom, trying to force his mind away from the obvious question. _Whose blood is it, then?_ He suspected he wouldn't like the answer.

…

When Kala placed her hand against the panel outside Zod's room, she expected it to chime – but the door opened immediately. That spooked her, and she hung back in the hallway, surprised by the light spilling from Zod's room. Somehow she'd expected it to be dark and foreboding, but the mostly-white décor only emphasized the brightness.

"Enter," Zod's voice sounded steady, perfectly calm, and Kala stepped forward hesitantly. She still wasn't sure if this was a good idea or the worst one over.

Zod rose from his chair and gave her a slight bow. "Welcome, and be seated," he said. "We have much to discuss."

"Such as?" Kala said warily, sidling away from him and the proffered chair.

Zod watched her for a moment, and then took his own seat again. "You must not give Luthor access to the information on the crystals," he said intently.

"What?" Kala said, caught off guard. "Wait, not that I was gonna, but why are _you_ telling me this?"

"Luthor is a loathsome creature," Zod answered. "He serves no interest but his own all-consuming desire for power. Given the knowledge contained in those crystals, he would be nearly unstoppable."

"You're one to talk about Luthor being power-mad," Kala retorted, amazed by his hypocrisy. "Does '_kneel before Zod!_' ring any bells? You _did_ try to conquer the world. I know all about it, even if it was before my time."

"You do _not_ 'know all about it'," Zod remonstrated, "and if you are wise, you will speak our language. I believe I have removed all of the monitoring devices from this room, but our best defense is our inherent proficiency in Kryptonese. Some of these humans understand it haltingly, but they cannot follow a conversation."

"Very well," Kala said, coming to stand behind the chair he'd offered her. The lights in the room were all angled toward this spot, and she could feel their soothing warmth on her skin, almost like sunlight. "I will speak our tongue, but I will also have an explanation for your statement. Who are you to accuse Luthor of excessive ambition, General Zod?"

"What is a general with no army to command?" he said smoothly. "My name is Dru-Zod. And I am … not the man I was when I first arrived on this planet."

"How so?" Kala asked. It was amazing how easily the formal phrases of Kryptonese came to her; perhaps Zod was right, that the language was natural to her people in a way that made it very hard for humans to learn.

Zod sighed. "I would ask you if you would consider yourself sane after imprisonment in the Phantom Zone, but that is a fate none should have to bear. Suffice it to say that I was consumed by the desire for revenge, and my caution was overturned by discovering the tremendous powers this planet's sun granted me and my associates. I sought a chance to be certain that such a thing would never happen to me again, nor to my loyal followers. Had I the ability to live those days over again, I would proceed differently."

Kala turned that over in her mind, considering. He sounded sincere … but her extended family of reporters had taught her that sincerity could be faked. Still, Zod hadn't made any hostile moves, so she sat down. "We are in agreement in the matter of Luthor," she said. "I have no intention of granting him access to the crystals."

"Yet you must not _tell_ him that," Zod warned. "I was able to convince him that the crystals respond only to the House of El at higher levels, when in fact I could have easily given him what he desires. I used this ruse to protect my own life, until such time as I am able to escape Luthor. You must do the same, if you wish for your own and your family's safety. Do not openly defy Luthor – we must move against him in secret."

"So it is 'we', then?" Kala said. "You seek alliance against Luthor. How can I, daughter of the House of El, trust you?"

"You have something I need," Zod said. "Schecter told you I serve only myself, but in this case, what I desire benefits you as well. For if my freedom can be secured, so can yours. Furthermore, I freely offer you useful knowledge. First, the lights in this room are all treated in a particular manner that mimics the radiation of the yellow sun. It is a poor substitute for those life-giving rays, but at least it will prevent you from slowly _losing_ the powers you've gained. You see, we are quite some distance underground, and unlikely to see the true sun again unless we escape Luthor."

Kala felt a chill down her spine. She was a dedicated sunbather, scandalizing her brother by lying on the apartment roof in a bathing suit, and the thought of being trapped so far from the sun terrified her. But her voice was steady when she spoke. "What is it you want from me?"

"Your mother is human – the woman Lois Lane, correct?" When Kala nodded slowly, Zod continued, "Then it follows that, since you are half-human, you have inherited some of her human immunity to kryptonite."

"It still makes me sick," Kala said. "But I have been exposed to it before, and I survived. The effects were less serious on me than they were on my father and brother. But I am still susceptible to the radiation."

"Then what I ask of you will require courage," Zod told her. "Green kryptonite causes weakness and pain, and it eventually kills, but it does not remove your powers. And at the moment, I suspect you may be more powerful than I."

"So what would you have me do?" Kala said, even more wary than she'd been when she first walked in.

"Disarm Luthor," Zod said.

"But it was you who warned me away from him earlier," Kala replied.

"I had not had a chance to discuss this with you," Zod said. "Fortunately, Luthor will now think you as reluctant to approach kryptonite as I am. He will be even less likely to realize what is happening until after the fact."

"So all you need me to do is take his ring?" Kala asked. That sounded off…

"No," Zod said, and he looked troubled. "There is another weapon, the design of which he adapted from common mining tools used on Krypton. Those plans he had access to even before he helped me escape prison. In its original form, it concentrated a laser beam to cut through crystal and stone. Now, Luthor has modified it to be more portable, and to concentrate kryptonite radiation and project it."

Kala had to switch to English. "You mean to tell me he built a freakin' kryptonite ray gun?" she exclaimed. "No way!"

"That is an apt description," Zod told her. "Furthermore, the device leaks radiation at an appreciable level. I can barely stand its presence, and I am certain that it would incapacitate me if fired anywhere in my vicinity. You, on the other hand, have partial immunity to kryptonite, and based on your demonstration earlier, you have sufficient speed to disarm Luthor before he could fire the weapon."

"It is still risking my life for you," Kala said. "Have you any reason why I should do such a thing? You are not precisely known for rewarding your allies."

"You speak of Luthor," Zod corrected. "Him I would have killed as soon his usefulness ended. He is a particularly craven human. But Non and Ursa, my true and faithful allies, I protected as long as I had the power to do so."

"I am half-human," Kala said, "and the other half is of the House of El, against which you swore vengeance. Neither gives me reason to trust you."

"You are half Kryptonian," Zod said. "I see the legacy of our people in you – it is stamped into your appearance and your character. The blood of Krypton has won out over human traits. That is why I would make alliance with you, and none of these humans who surround us. None of them know the meaning of honor, but you are a noble daughter of Krypton."

Kala was tempted. She had to make a choice: hold her own against Luthor _and_ Zod, or ally herself with one or the other. Daughter of Superman or not, she was only sixteen years old, and the thought of trying to deal with them both terrified her. So it seemed like she'd have to choose between them, and of the two, Zod looked like the safer option.

But he was still _Zod_. "No way," Kala said in English, and continued in Kryptonese, "I do not trust your allegiance to a fellow Kryptonian. I _am_ the daughter of the House of El, and I believe that yet weighs heavily on your mind."

"So it does," Zod said. "But you have intelligence enough to know that the more I try to persuade you to trust me, the more untrustworthy I shall seem. Consider the matter for yourself, Kala Kal-El. And when you do, think of this: I have but one reason to betray you, and that is hatred of your grandfather. My reasons to keep my word are myriad, not least of which is the fact that helping you to escape may be my own last chance at true freedom. For who else but you could intercede with your father on my behalf?"

…

Richard heard Lois scream, and realized what this meant. It wasn't over; whoever had tried to kill Lana was still out there and _still_ targeting his wife. He dove in front of the gurney, trying to simultaneously push Lana back into the relative safety of the apartment, and shield her with his own body.

Sound seemed to have cut out; he saw Lana's mouth moving, but couldn't hear her. Richard felt Maggie grab at his shirt, probably trying to stop him from sacrificing himself, but he didn't care. As long as Lana was okay, nothing else mattered. He'd come far too close to losing his wife today.

His eyes met hers just before his vision went red.

…

The phone rang, and Giselle glanced at the caller ID before answering. "Hi, Mom," she said. "How's your trip?"

The voice in her ear, however, was not Justine's, and her green eyes grew wide with fear as it spoke. "No," she whispered, but that wouldn't stop her caller.

…

Maggie Sawyer felt the world seem to tilt on its axis. This morning, she'd been dealing with the difficult case of a close friend's runaway daughter. By mid-afternoon, it was increasingly clear that Kala _had_ in fact been kidnapped – and her captor was almost certainly Luthor. Who else had access to so much kryptonite, and the diabolical idea of using Lois Lane's daughter to bait a trap for Superman?

She and Dan had finally had a breakthrough in the case, and then suddenly all hell had broken loose. Lana had been attacked in her own apartment, and the most shocking news of the day was that she'd managed to not only survive, but had turned the tables on her attacker. The kitchen, where Maggie had often enjoyed a cup of Lana's excellent coffee, was now one of the most brutal crime scenes the seasoned inspector had ever laid eyes on.

The constant reversals were taking their toll even before she heard Lois shout. The only way someone could see what was going on right now was through a high-power scope … like the ones mounted on sniper rifles. Maggie had been just a hair too slow to stop Richard, and her heart sank with the realization that she was probably about to see one of her friends die.

Then, suddenly, a violet blur, and Richard stumbled back, blinking. He'd been struck in the face by Superman's cape, and as they all retreated into the living room the hero stood shielding them from harm. He was holding out one arm, his hand inches from where Richard's head had been a moment ago. "Inspector Sawyer," he said. "Hold out your hand, please."

She was far too bewildered to do anything but comply. Superman dropped something warm into her palm, and she looked down to see a large-caliber bullet, mushroomed where it had struck Superman's hand. Her stomach churned; she knew what bullets like this could do to a person, and the thought of seeing Richard…

Choking back her gorge, she realized Superman had flown off. Somewhere behind her, the EMTs were urgently calling off Life Flight, and Lois was grabbing Richard in a fierce hug. Lana was sobbing again.

An instant later, Maggie heard a bang and saw a flare of orange on the face of a building some distance away. Superman reappeared beside her, so damn fast you couldn't even see him coming in, and now his expression was grave. "I didn't get there in time," he said quietly. "I followed the trajectory back to the sniper, but … he was wearing some kind of headset. It looked to have been rigged with explosives. Before I could reach him…"

"Where?" Maggie said. Her duty brought her back from her bemused state; that was another crime scene, and she needed to get officers on it _now_ if she wanted any chance at recovering evidence. Plus there was a risk of fire…

Superman gave her the address and floor, which she repeated into her radio. Disastrous as it was, at least the world was spinning in an understandable way again, and she began to feel more normal.

Unfortunately, the normal reaction to seeing her friends injured and threatened was to get angry – very angry. Maggie had had just about enough of Luthor's games to last her for a lifetime. Somewhere in the back of her orderly, logical mind was a simple line. On one side was her duty, the other her personal life, and while the line between the two was exceedingly narrow in places, it had never been crossed. Not until now.

"I doubt there's another sniper," Superman was saying, "but I think I should escort Mrs. White to the hospital just the same."

"Great," Maggie said, and the EMTs helped Lana get up off the gurney. She seemed to be slipping back into the confused state of shock in which they'd first found her, and Superman quickly got her airborne. At least she was safe – Maggie turned her attention to Richard and Lois.

"I'm going to meet her at the hospital," Richard said.

"Yes, you are," Maggie said, "and you're going in an armored car. Ames! C'mere, I need you. And where the hell did Lois get to?"

…

Her hands shaking in fear, Giselle tried to compose herself in the lobby of Reeve Plaza. She felt wetness on her cheeks and angrily scrubbed the tears away; she couldn't let Jason see that. She had to be calm, confident, and casual when she walked through the door of the apartment – nothing could be out of the ordinary. He was still worried about Kala, and the last thing she needed was for him to be distracted by her suddenly breaking down in tears.

But oh, that last phone call… Giselle felt her spine turn to ice, and she had to fight her urge to just run away from all of this. She'd never imagined it could get this bad; when she'd started going out with Jason, she could never have foreseen that she'd end up _here_, with no place else to run, nowhere left to hide.

It was do or die time, and that wasn't just a quaint phrase anymore. She'd heard the venom in Luthor's voice.

* * *


	26. Act III: Truth: Secrets and Lies Prt I

I'm so sorry, all! I've been trying to post this since 5 PM yesterday! I could seriously kick this site for going down. *glares* At least it's up now!

That said, this is yet another chapter that I'm not really sure I can give an intro for. This is another one of those sections of the story that we've been planning since we were still writing _**Little Secrets**_. Yes, for that long. Hopefully we've been keeping you guessing so far and will continue to do so. That said, welcome to the new arc: **Act III: Truth**. And be ready as we shift it into high gear. Expect the unexpected. :D

* * *

The crushing level of guilt he felt threatened to overwhelm Kal-El. He'd been so completely focused on trying to find any clue that would lead him to Kala, he had blocked out the rest of the world. Lana and Kristin had been alone in their own apartment with a killer, and he hadn't even known. If not for luck, and a moment of ruthless courage, his oldest friend would have been brutally murdered and he wouldn't have even been aware until after the fact. It was all he had to keep himself together, staring directly through the walls of the OR. How would he be able to face Richard, or Lois, or even his own reflection in the mirror, if he had let that occur?

Just after dropping Lana off at the emergency room, he'd switched to plainclothes and hurried inside, keeping track of her heartbeat by super-hearing. It seemed like she was going to be okay, no thanks to him…

Richard rushed into the waiting room, and his gaze fell on Clark. The taller man flinched, expecting castigation for his negligence, but instead Richard had simply come forward and hugged him. Confused, Clark could only return the gesture.

They didn't speak, only braced one another against the onslaught that was threatening to swallow their families. "Thank you," Richard finally whispered hoarsely. Drawing back, the younger man made an attempt at composing himself, but with visible effort. "How is she?"

"Fine," Clark replied, glad to have good news for him in spite of his troubled conscience. "They don't think she has any serious injuries apart from her hand. She's in surgery for that now. The rest just needs stitches."

Richard sighed in relief. "Thank God." Some of the panic was leaving his expression, but he'd had too much of a shock to calm down quickly.

It made Clark's chest ache with remorse to see his friend like this. And what happened to Lana was even worse. And all because of him. Where could he even begin? "I'm so sorry. I should've been listening. Richard, I… I don't know what I would've done… if she…"

He never got any further. Richard just hugged him again, tighter, knowing all too well the lengths to which Clark pushed himself and yet punished himself for all he _couldn't do_. "I don't know, either. Good thing we don't have to find out."

Glad of this comfort, Clark hushed and concentrated on monitoring Lana once they pulled away again. The surgeons were just about finished with her hand, if their conversation was any indication. For Richard's sake and to assuage his own guilt, Clark would keep a vigilant watch over Lana. After all, both assassins were dead – Lois was perfectly safe.

…

Lois' journalistic instinct had been nagging her ever since she walked into the Whites' apartment and being held back was driving her mad. Something was off about this whole thing, and with Lana and everyone else safe for the moment, Lois let her hunch have free rein. The cops and paramedics were distracted, so she headed to the kitchen.

She knew better than to disturb a crime scene – Maggie would go utterly ballistic if she touched anything. But a look wouldn't hurt…

Lois had to press a hand over her mouth when she peeked into the kitchen. When Lana had lashed out at her attacker, she'd sliced the woman's throat deeply. Lois knew as much from what Maggie had told her. That hadn't prepared her for the slaughterhouse atmosphere of Lana's formerly tidy and welcoming kitchen. Blood had sprayed the ceiling and the counters before pooling beneath the dark-skinned woman lying on the floor.

The woman's head lay at an unnatural angle on the bright white of the kitchen tiles, the whole image horrible and surreal in such a cheery place. Unable to help her wince at the sight, Lois remembered Maggie telling her that Lana had nearly decapitated her attacker. And as much as she would like to turn away and banish this nightmare for her mind for just a moment, there was something about the corpse that had all of Lois' instincts on full alert. She couldn't see the face from where she stood, and so she circled through the hall for a clearer look.

And startled at what she saw when peeked through the other door, her eyes widening. She _knew_ this woman! She'd seen that face before, but where?

When the answer came to her, it made her heart freeze. Wheeling around, she yelled up the hallway, "Mags! We need to get to my place _now!_" Her finger flew on her cellphone, already speed-dialing the apartment without really thinking about it, but was met with an inane beeping – a line was cut or a phone was off the hook. It wouldn't make that noise if Jason was just using the phone.

The next thing she heard the quick approach of booted feet. "What the hell?" the cop snapped, Lois hearing her before she was even rounding the corner. "Goddamn you, Lois, I told you to stay the hell out of my crime scene…"

She had no more seen the top of Maggie's head before Lois grabbed her sleeve and yanked her to the doorway. "Look familiar?" she said hastily, the intensity in the reporter's eyes just a little unsettling. "I can't remember her name, something Taya, but she's a friend of Justine Davenport's. She dropped Giselle off a couple times."

In short order, Maggie came to the same conclusion Lois had. She swore graphically, barking orders to the other cops and calling for backup as she ran for the elevator. Lois followed at her heels, dialing Jason's cell phone this time and knowing it was probably in vain…

…

Giselle came in quietly, the gun held in front of her, safe in the knowledge that she'd just cut the house phone line. She knew exactly where to find the gun; Justine hadn't packed all of her collection. The plan was simple – find Jason and kill him. As Luthor had told her, his first two attempts had failed, and both assassins had met their deaths. Now it was up to her.

She'd protested vehemently. This wasn't anything remotely close to what she was hired for – when she met Justine, the older woman had offered her a simple job: seduce a teenage boy and worm her way into his family. That sounded easier than scamming retirement checks, so Giselle had jumped at it. The pay was excellent, and the job was made easier by the fact that Jason Kent was actually quite attractive, if a bit too squeaky-clean for Giselle's taste.

The job wasn't as easy as she'd been led to believe. Open and friendly on the surface, Jason's extended family were actually quite secretive about certain things. They should have all been delighted to have such a pretty, well-mannered young lady dating their son, but she had the nagging feeling that she'd gotten something wrong. Somehow they didn't like her… and his twin sister flat-out hated her.

That played into Justine's plans perfectly. Giselle had been able to alienate the twins as well as report on the family's activities. Only recently had Justine mentioned that their true goal was kidnapping one of the kids. They'd been planning on Jason; if Giselle could only manage to get him to come with her and her 'mom' on vacation, they'd have him.

As it turned out, the other half of her job had come to fruition first. After New Year's, she'd seen the opportunity to strike out at Kala and get a little revenge for all the slights and insults she'd been forced to take. Her rumor-mongering had led directly to Kala running away, and Justine's contacts had picked the girl up very quickly. Giselle's quick thinking had earned her a substantial bonus, and she thought her job was over.

But no. Justine had finally told her who they were really working for: Lex Luthor. _He_ was no one to mess around with, and the job wasn't done until he said it was done. Justine had made it very clear that Giselle had to stay on task and in character as the family searched for Kala, reporting their every move.

The job was taking far longer than Giselle had ever suspected, and she wanted out. Justine kept asking more and more of her, and she'd tried to flatly refuse when she wanted her to stick around and help search for Kala. The blonde had just laughed, and gotten a manila folder out of her desk. Inside were a dozen typed sheets of paper with detailed descriptions of Giselle's recent criminal activities. "At least two of those are federal offenses," Justine had said calmly. "We can point the police at the evidence."

"I'll turn you in," Giselle had replied, and the older woman had just shaken her head.

"Is that so? Well, Giselle, what exactly do you have on us? I hired you to date a boy, get in arguments with his sister, and suck up to his family. If that's a crime, you're complicit in it. If you even try to go for the kidnapping, you'd first have to prove I had a hand in it, and if you succeed, you're naming yourself as an accessory. It was _your_ idea to spread the rumor about her. It would look as though the kidnapping was your idea, too." Justine's icy blue eyes had the look of a scientist studying a particularly interesting species of bug under a microscope, a small arrogant smile on her lips.

Giselle had been frightened by that, cowed into going along with their plan. It was only a little longer, she kept telling herself… and now she had to kill Jason or be killed herself.

She was a survivor first. She could do this if she had to. And she definitely had to… Drawing that cold-blooded self-interest around her like a coat, Giselle stalked into the apartment, gun at the ready.

Footsteps in the hall, and it was Kristin, dressed in an pink nightgown, who walked out and saw Giselle, not Jason. The little girl's blue eyes grew huge when she saw the gun, and she froze. Giselle had a moment to think _Oh God, you've got to be kidding_ and then Jason was moving in front of the little girl. He was trying to hide it from his little sister, but the dark-haired boy looked as keyed-up as she did at that moment. "Kristin, go to Lo-Lo's study," he said sternly. "Giselle…"

_I never should have made that deal. I knew it was too damn good to be true._ But she had and this was one last hurdle before she was out. She could do it; she'd survived tighter scrapes. Her green eyes narrowed then, gaze directly on her 'boyfriend' of the last few months. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be," Giselle warned darkly, and cocked the gun.

…

Jason realized he'd been mentally preparing for something like this ever since he'd first seen Kristin. The family was under attack again, and he knew Luthor wouldn't hesitate to target _him_. No one was safe anymore, and he had to keep his wits about him if he was going to rescue his twin.

He just hadn't expected it to be _Giselle_.

If Jason was totally and completely honest with himself, he'd never considered Giselle his intellectual equal. Not that he had a problem with that; she wasn't _dumb_, just not a genius. He admired her for her other traits… which, with a gun pointed at him, he suddenly couldn't remember. Her kindness? Her open affection? Or was it all really just about the face and body that made every other guy in school bang their foreheads against their desks?

Jason didn't think he was that shallow, but it was obvious that he'd misjudged his girlfriend. And that everyone in the family who had held back, not openly disapproving but certainly not making her welcome, had been right.

All of that reflection happened in a tenth of a second. Thinking fast, Jason sent Kristin away and faced Giselle alone. He'd barely begun to say her name when she cut him off.

Even her voice sounded different, a new sharp note of implacability in it. Jason tried to get past that, to let himself hope she was only scared, but in her eyes he saw her steeling herself to go through with this, with killing him. Those eyes were as icy as Lex Luthor's, and Jason would never forget _that_ expression.

Still, this was Giselle. _Giselle,_ whom he had snuggled and kissed and held hands with. Surely he knew her well enough to be able to talk her out of this. There had to be some way for this not to end in bloodshed. Dad handled situations like this every day.

Of course, _he_ was bulletproof, and Jason wasn't. He couldn't let himself feel fear at the moment, though. Panicking would get him killed.

"C'mon, Giselle," Jason said soothingly. "Put the gun down."

The barrel of the gun still aimed directly at Jason's face, giving him no ground. "Shut up," she growled, her voice bitter and giving no sign of its former warmth. They could have been strangers for all the familiarity there.

"You're not going to do this. You're not a killer, Giselle, I know you're not."

That was the wrong thing to say, as her eyes blazed with fury. "You know _nothing_ about me," Giselle hissed. "I'm not who you think I am, you idiot. I was _paid_ to go out with you."

"That doesn't make you a murderer." He held his hands out, showing her his empty palms. "Look, Giselle, whatever you're mixed up in, we can help you."

The laugh that left those perfect lips was hard and bitter, a sound he had never expected to hear. "Help me? You can't even help yourselves. This family is so screwed up, you don't even see it."

"We _can_ help you," Jason insisted. "Mom and Dad know people… If someone's after you, we can protect you."

"Like you protected Kala?" Giselle retorted, and Jason flinched.

He rallied, then, her mention of Kala finally igniting his slow temper. It set his teeth on edge to think how many times he had lost his temper with his twin over this girl. It didn't help to realize that Kal had been right in the end. She had always said that his girlfriend was going to hurt him badly in the end. He just hadn't know just how right she was. "Giselle, you're not going to shoot me," Jason said more forcefully. "If you were a real killer, you'd have pulled the trigger by now. You're just grandstanding – you need our help. You don't need to do this."

"God, you always did talk too much and act too little," she snapped irritably. But she wasn't squeezing the trigger, which was what was important, and Jason took that as a good sign.

He'd forgotten about Bagel.

…

Bagel had enjoyed a comfortable, predictable life for nine years. Her meals and walks ran on a reliable schedule that only occasionally varied, and that was during trips with her family. She liked things orderly – adventure was fun on walks and vacations, but in her own home, she preferred a stable routine.

That routine had been shattered. First, the big party. While Bagel generally enjoyed parties as opportunities to get affection and snacks from people, this party had carried an undertone of uneasiness. Like all dogs, Bagel was exquisitely attuned to the emotional weather of her family. Not only was she an astute reader of body language, but her nose was so much keener than a human's that she could smell the changes in body chemistry that accompanied changes in emotional state. In other words, she could smell fear, anger, love, the whole range of human feelings.

She hadn't liked the way the party ended, and then when Kala came home, everyone got into a huge fight. The house had reeked of adrenaline and anger, and Bagel had been confused and frightened by it.

Nothing had been right since then. Her schedule was ruined, her humans were frightened and angry, and Kala was missing. All of it combined to make Bagel a miserable little dog. And then Clark had brought Kristin over, smelling of blood and medicine and unhappiness. Bagel was presently hiding under the sofa while Jason soothed his little sister. The beagle was having the worst day of her life, and she was so distraught that she had started licking her own feet repetitively, trying to comfort herself. So far she'd only managed to remove some of her fur.

Just then, Bagel heard a stealthy noise at the door. She was normally a decent watchdog; her yips of delight at arriving strangers alerted her family to their presence. But just now, she felt too pathetic to muster her usual excited greeting. Instead she lay under the sofa, her chocolate-brown eyes trained on the door.

It opened slowly, and the person who stepped through was someone Bagel knew. But Giselle's familiar scent was masked by the cloud of fear and rage and determination that hung over her. Those smells, along with a sharp oily note, swamped Bagel's sensitive nose. She cringed, ears flat against her skull, as the girl moved into the apartment and confronted Jason.

Giselle was not moving like she normally did. Now she had a predator's stealth and intent. Bagel's hackles rose, her teeth bared, but she made no sound. As the girl moved past the sofa, something inside the little hound snapped.

She'd had too much – too much fear, too much anger, too much yelling, too much disruption of her tidy life. Then this human arrived, her body language and scent clearly advertising her intent to harm from the moment she stepped inside. And now she spoke, her voice harsh and cold and threatening. Jason talked to her, and Bagel heard the fear in his voice, the desperation in hers.

Bagel was not normally protective or aggressive, but that was the final straw. Snarling, she darted out from under the sofa and sank her teeth into Giselle's calf.

It hardly seemed possible that this was the same gentle beagle who had licked Giselle's face yesterday and squirmed her way onto Jason's lap to comfort him.

The girl cried out in pain and surprise, trying to shake the little dog off. When Bagel lost her grip, Giselle took a step toward her and kicked. Hard. For a dog who'd never been struck harder than a mild swat on the rump, it was traumatic. Bagel squealed as she briefly went airborne.

That was all Jason needed to see. He lunged at Giselle, grappling for the gun, too furious to fear for his own life.

…

Somehow in all of the craziness for the search earlier in the day, Elise had managed to leave her purse at the Lane-Kents' house. Feeling like an idiot for having to come back to her ex-boyfriend's house for something he'd consider trival, she headed back over there, not bothering to call first. There had to be someone home on phone duty, likely Mr. White. And besides, it wasn't as if anyone would be going to bed this early, not with Kala still missing and the prospects looking bleaker all the time. If she could time it right, she might even stay and help out a little later tonight. It wasn't as if she couldn't spare the extra time with the house being empty save for her. She'd just get Lois to drive her home later.

Getting off the elevator, Elise walked up the short hallway to the penthouse, surprising herself with a flare of hope to find Jason alone and immediately feeling like a moron for it. It wasn't like he wouldn't mock her absent-mindedness. But a high yip coming from the direction of the apartment made her freeze in mid-stride.

The door was open, and it shouldn't have been. This was Metropolis, everyone kept their doors closed and locked, even on the better side of town. Hell, the Lane-Kents had _five_ different locks running up the inside of their door. Worse, she could hear what sounded like a scuffle coming from inside.

The sane, sensible thing to do would have been to retreat and call the cops. But Elise was struck by the instant and undeniable thought that Jason might be in trouble. She couldn't make herself walk away without making sure, and that was how she found herself peering in the doorway.

A muffled curse and a thump, then Jason crossed her field of vision. He was holding tight to Giselle – but that was no lover's embrace. Rather, he had his arms around her and was trying to wrestle something out of her hands. They banged into a hall table, knocking it over, neither of them paying the slightest attention to it.

Giselle was suddenly stronger and more coordinated than Elise had ever imagined her, stamping down on Jason's feet and twisting in his grip. "Let me go!" she yelled.

"You shouldn't have kicked my dog," Jason growled, and that was the moment when Elise realized the object they were fighting over was a gun.

_Oh, shit,_ she thought, her mind going perfectly blank. At that moment, Giselle's knees buckled and she practically fell out of Jason's grasp, taking the gun with her. Tremendous fear roared up in Elise, the fear that she was about to see Jason killed, and that fear had her moving even while her conscious mind was still frozen. Taking two steps into the foyer, Elise snatched up the heavy ceramic dish that Lois used to contain her change, keys, and various other pocket flotsams. Neither Giselle nor Jason saw her throw it over-arm and hard, aimed squarely at the black-haired girl.

Giselle was rising to turn the pistol on Jason. At the last moment, she saw the dish coming and ducked, involuntarily squeezing the pistol as she did so. Its report stood out above the crashing dish. Elise was already diving for cover, and the shot missed her widely. _Stupid, but lucky,_ she told herself as she darted back outside, already dialing 9-1-1. As badly as she wanted to help Jason, the smartest thing she could do would be to get the police there. _But if she hurts him, I'll kill her._

…

Jason had had enough. He wasn't about to let Giselle get the upper hand again. This time when he lunged for her, he tackled her to the ground, hard enough that the gun spun out of her hands and the breath whooshed out of her lungs. He couldn't even find an ounce of pity for her as they grappled on the floor.

Giselle caught him on the chin with her elbow, and stars burst in his vision. The slender girl was wriggling out of his grasp, going for the gun, and Jason grabbed the back of her shirt, hauling her down again. She was quick and slippery as an eel, one second her knee driving into his chest, the next her nails raking his arm.

Angry, Jason used his weight and strength to pin her down, catching her forearms. For a second he seemed to have won, but Giselle threw her head back and screamed piercingly. "Help me! _Rape!_" In shock at that completely unfounded accusation, Jason's grip loosened.

It was just the opportunity Giselle was looking for. She lashed out, punching Jason in the throat. It hurt, but it wasn't the incapacitating blow she meant it to be, and he shook off the pain in time to see her getting up again.

Jason threw himself at her again. Her green eyes were full of venom as she stared up at him, and Jason held her wrists tightly, pinning her to the ground. She tried to struggle, but this time he wasn't letting go. He stared intently down into the face he'd kissed so many times, and no emotion was left in his heart except the need to make sure she didn't hurt anyone.

The girl abruptly went limp, then rocked her hips against him. Her whispered taunt, delivered from behind her fall of raven hair, was completely husky and malicious. "Bet you've been fantasizing about this."

Okay, there was room for one other emotion: anger. "Shut. Up." Jason snarled the words and punctuated them with a squeeze of her wrists to make sure she knew he was serious.

Giselle scowled, then shifted her gaze to something behind him. Jason didn't dare take his eyes off her, but he knew it had to be Elise. "Take care of Kristin," he managed to say. "I've got her."

"That's what _you_ think," Giselle hissed, but Jason didn't respond. Elise hurried to find the little girl, while Jason held onto Giselle and tried to control his temper. He knew if he got angry enough, he'd make a mistake… a clear head was his best ally right now.

Pretending relaxation, Giselle sighed deeply. "You know, if you weren't such a prude, it would've been you. " Not understanding, Jason kept silent, so she elaborated. "If you would've just gone on _one_ trip with us, it'd be you who went missing instead of your sister. Unfortunately for Kala, you have too much moral purity to even _think_ it. I was starting to wonder if you even like girls, honestly."

That last didn't sting him the way it would have most boys his age, but the comments about Kala did hurt. "Shut up, Giselle. You don't know the first thing about me."

Giselle, seeing that she scored a mark somewhere, grinned wolfishly at him.

…

Maggie had called for backup, but thanks to her driving and her personal vehicle's exquisitely tuned engine, she and Lois arrived at the penthouse first. On the elevator, she turned to look at the reporter, and her expression was as stern as Lois had ever seen it. "Follow my lead when we get there," Maggie said in a low, serious voice. "I just want you to watch my back, all right? No heroics unless I say it's called for. And whatever you see, whatever happens, _don't fire the first shot_. Let me take care of that – it's less paperwork."

Lois nodded. Early in her career, before the Superman stories, she'd done a series of not-exactly-complimentary articles on the Metropolis Police Department. Maggie Sawyer, then a recent addition to the force, had written a letter to the editor challenging Lois to see the world through a cop's eyes. That had resulted in Lois enrolling in police academy, getting the same training as anyone who wanted to be an officer. She'd even gone on patrol just like any rookie, and her perspective on police work had certainly been broadened – though she never became as blatantly pro-cop as Raines ultimately did.

That experience had also resulted in her friendship with Maggie, and further opportunities the average reporter didn't get. Lois had been to classes on how to handle hostage situations, she had full use of the police firing range, and she'd infamously taken the evasive driving course. Of all of Maggie's non-police friends, Lois knew she was the most qualified to be playing backup right now. She had the firepower and the training.

But her son and daughter were in the apartment, and Lois could tell Maggie was worried about that. This was _personal_, and Lois wasn't even sure herself if she could stay objective. "I'll let you handle it," she said at last. If there was anyone beyond the immediate family she trusted with her kids' lives, it was Maggie.

The elevator was close to the top floor, and Maggie drew her gun, holding it cocked and ready up by her shoulder. Lois did the same, focusing on just taking one breath and letting it out. She had to be calm, she had to be prepared for anything…

When the elevator doors opened on the hallway to the penthouse, the first thing both women saw was the open front door. From inside the apartment, they heard a piercing scream, a girl's voice shrieking, "Help! Help me, he's gonna kill me!"

Maggie and Lois ran for the apartment, but the policewoman checked at the door. Lois had to stop or run into her, so she flattened herself against the wall as Maggie peeked inside. Now Lois had time to realize it was Giselle screaming for help.

"Easy," Maggie murmured, and then she was around the door moving into the apartment, smooth and fast. Lois came right on her heels, hyper-aware of her surroundings and of the gun in her hands, its barrel still pointed up.

What Lois saw was far from what she expected. Jason had Giselle pinned down on the floor, one hand holding her wrists, the other fist cocked back to strike her. He looked up at Maggie dazedly. "_Move_," the cop snapped, and Jason scrambled to his feet, backing away.

Giselle rolled over and started to get up, but Maggie was on her, a knee in the girl's back and the muzzle of her service pistol nestled against the back of Giselle's head. "Stay down, hands behind you, _right now_." The instant the girl complied, Maggie handcuffed her. "Stay there," she growled.

Once the girl was in Maggie's crosshairs, Lois gave her son a brief but relieved hug. He could see the anxiety in her face, knew that something more than this had frightened her, but she charged on without letting him ask. "Thank God, you're alright. Where's Dormouse?"

Before he could answer, Elise was in the doorway. "In your study… _Holy shit!_"

At the unexpected voice, Maggie was on her feet, gun aimed squarely at Elise, which had caused the girl to swear. "Hands on your head," she snapped, and Elise did so with her eyes wide and her knees shaking.

He had completely forgotten that Elise had gone upstairs in all the excitement. Quickly moving away from his mother, Jason moved to shield Elise from the firearm. "Aunt Maggie, she's okay. She came in and tried to help me when Giselle was going to shoot. She's safe."

"I don't trust anyone right now," the policewoman muttered.

Lois was currently keeping her eyes on Giselle, ready to aim the gun at her if necessary. But when she flicked her gaze over to see Maggie drawing a bead on the girl, and the look of horrified amazement on Elise's face, she spoke up. "Seriously, Mags, she's cool. We're known her for quite a while now. She's okay."

"Jason, go check on Kristin," Maggie said sternly. Her gaze locked poor Elise to the spot. "You, stay right there." Taking one hand off her gun, but keeping it squarely aimed at Elise, she took out her phone and dialed. "Dan, have we got anything on Elise?"

Lois couldn't hear his answer, but she heard Jason come back into the room. The boy took one look at the current tableau and gave an exasperated sigh. "Kristin's fine; she's already falling asleep again because of the medicine. Aunt Maggie, come on. Look, could you not point the gun at her, please?"

"Yeah," Elise muttered, shocked. The brunette was the color of powdered sugar at the moment, staring at the gun as if it was a snake poised to bite. "I think I just pissed myself, for real. Shit."

The lieutenant wasn't hearing a word of their complaints, intent on the voice on the other line. "Thanks, Dan," Maggie said before closing up her phone, and lowered the gun at last. "You can sit down, Miranda Elise Thorne, but no sudden moves."

That simple phrase had an unexpected reaction. "Miranda?" Jason said, looking at her with comical surprise.

"Oh, shut up, Jason. I never go by Miranda," Elise muttered while making her way to the couch, color coming back into her face as she glared at her ex with utter distain. "And I better never hear it out of you or I'll never save your butt again. I _hate_ that name."

Giselle laughed nastily. "Jeez, Jason, you don't know anything about any of your girlfriends, do you?"

"You shut up until I ask you a question," Maggie said to her, and her voice was deadly calm. She hauled Giselle to her feet by one arm, the girl protesting, and all of them could hear the sirens approaching. Quickly reading Giselle her rights, Maggie added, "So, you wanna tell me what's going on, or do I have to sweat it out of you at the precinct?"

The response was immediate and not exactly a surprise. "I want a lawyer."

"It's your right to have one," Maggie said, her tone almost conversational again. "Just know that, if you lawyer up on us, we're gonna throw everything we have at you and hope some of it will stick. Talking now, we might be able to help you."

"Screw that. I'd be better off in jail."

"Fine. How about telling me where your mother is?"

"She's not my mother," the black-haired girl said irritably. "And I don't even know her real name."

"What about your name? Is Giselle Davenport who you really are, or just a fake identity you created to spy on this family? And just what am I gonna learn when I run your fingerprints down at the precinct, hmm?"

But Giselle refused to say anything more, and the police arrived in force. Lois had just enough time to holster her gun before her living room was full of cops. Leaving Maggie to deal with it, she went to check on Kristin.

The little girl was waiting anxiously in the study, and pounced on Lois when she walked in. "Lo-Lo!" she cried, hugging her. Lois saw that Jason had gotten her cleaned up and into one of her gowns from the clothing stash kept at the Lane-Kents' house. This one was a Hello Kitty one Kala had picked up for her someplace.

"Hey, sweetheart," Lois murmured, relaxing gratefully. It was nice to just be a mom for a moment, instead of a reporter or a half-assed cop.

Of course, that thought reminded her of what had gotten them all into this mess: her older daughter. Lois' heart contracted painfully, her throat tight, and she squeezed Kristin a little more for wishing that she could hug Kala again. _I'd forgive her everything, even let her date Nick – under our supervision of course – if only it would bring her back to me right now. Oh, Kala._

Jason and Elise had followed her into the room, the latter still a bit wide-eyed. "Mom, what's going on?" he asked.

Lois glared at him, then looked significantly at Kristin. She was _not _going to explain things in front of the youngest. Hearing about Lana's narrow escape would just traumatize her. So far, it seemed like her cold and a dose of children's NyQuil had left the details a bit foggy in Little K's mind.

Jason just sighed. He had always known when he saw his mother on edge to back off, but at this moment, he felt himself teetering as well. No answers wasn't an option this time. "Mom, me and Elise just barely escaped being Swiss cheese and Little K was covered in 'paint', so can we go out to the patio or something? Because I really need an explanation."

He had a point. If this was how bad things were going to get, he needed to be warned. It was too late to try to hide what was happening from him. Not when Luthor was sending the Devil to her doorstep. With a long heavy sigh, Lois nodded. He deserved to know. "Elise, would you keep an eye on Kristin for a sec while Jason and I talk?"

Elise just looked back and forth at the both of the for a minute before giving a slow nod. "Yeah, sure. No big deal, I'll go play with Munchkin like nothing happened. You betcha. If _I_ can get an update later," the girl replied pointedly. Kristin, who had always adored her, was content to be held while Lois and Jason went out to the stairwell.

"Start with whose blood was all over Little K," Jason said, before the study door had fully closed.

"Not Lana's. At least, some of it was Lana's, but she's fine. She's in the hospital, she'll be okay." Seeing Jason's mouth start to open, Lois hastily added, "The blood came from the woman who attacked her. Lana… Lana killed her in self-defense."

Jason's jaw hung open. "Oh my God," he whispered. "How?"

"With a knife," Lois said with her expression dark. The vision of that blood-painted kitchen resurfaced in her mind, and she forced it away. This was no time to dwell on the fact that she'd almost lost one of her closest friends today… and said friend had only survived by taking someone else's life.

Jason managed to get himself composed enough to ask for a rundown of the rest of the day's activities, and Lois updated him. It wasn't much of a surprise that he could accept what Lana had done. After all, he'd killed a man in defense of Kala, and he still felt the repercussions of that desperate act. _At this rate the whole damn family's gonna need therapy,_ Lois thought angrily. _Luthor, you bastard, I'll send you the bill._

…

Kala left Zod without giving him an answer, and went back to her own room. Every instinct told her to delay – to put off telling Luthor or Zod anything concrete as long as possible. Time was on her side, after all. The longer she was down here, the more time Dad had to find her. And he _would_ find her, of that Kala was certain. She couldn't let herself doubt it for an instant.

But what Zod had told her troubled her. He sounded so reasonable, so sane, so very unlike everything she'd been led to expect. Jor-El's warnings made him seem like a rabid destroyer bent on vengeance, and yet the man she'd spoken with was urbane, polite, cautious, even considerate.

And he thought of her as a full-blooded Kryptonian, an equal. Kala couldn't help the pride that welled up in her chest at that. The only other Kryptonians she knew were her own family. Jason and Dad loved her, but she'd always be a little girl to her father, and she privately suspected that Jason thought she was silly for being so very Goth. As for Jor-El, Kala had the feeling that she was a bit of a second-class citizen. Jason was the one who would bear the legacy of the House of El, he would become a hero, while Kala was just… a girl. Jor-El planned for her to grow up into a lady befitting the family name, but he didn't expect much else from her – even though she knew more about the history and culture of Krypton than Jason did.

'_Run along and play, little girl,'_ Kala thought viciously,_ 'and yes, it's very nice that you learned how to speak the language correctly, and who Jax-Ur was and why he was important, and the layout of the city of Kandor. All of that is very nice, dear, but your brother and I have important things to talk about. Hero things, legacy things, __**manly**__ things.' God, I can hear it in Jor-El's voice, even though he never actually said it. The self-important Giant Floating Head hasn't heard much about feminism or equal rights for women, I take it. Lara must've been a very patient woman to put up with him._

Zod saw her as more than a child – he was trusting her, asking for an alliance, treating her like an adult. Kala felt inclined to accept his offer based on that alone. Who else in her life saw her as a grownup? Who else could understand what Krypton meant to her, why it was so important to be a part of that legacy? And Zod, he was actually _from_ Krypton, he'd lived there, he'd walked in cities Kala had only read about, seen the Valley of the Elders firsthand. The things he knew…

Kala caught herself eagerly chasing after her favorite dream, the one where she magically got to go to a restored Krypton and was recognized as the daughter of the House of El. She'd had variations on that dream ever since she learned the truth of her parentage. Being half-alien had never scared her; in fact, if she _had_ been able to visit Krypton, it was her human half that would be regarded as alien. Krypton was, in an ancient and primal way, the home she had never seen and would always yearn for.

But letting herself get all starry-eyed over the fact that Zod had lived there wouldn't help her now. Sure, she could hit him up for some details about the planet and its civilization; that would make a great delaying tactic. Her main focus, however, had to be getting home.

Kala felt her throat tighten, and she closed her eyes. She was lying curled up in the middle of the bed, and nothing felt right. At first she thought it was just that this wasn't her room, with all its familiar sights and sounds. But she'd never had problems sleeping over at Richard or Lana's, or on vacation, or in Jason's room…

Her breath caught. _Jason_. If only Jason were here, she could go to sleep, trusting him to watch over her. That was what was missing, the one thing that had always been a constant in her life up until now. She had never before tried to fall asleep somewhere she couldn't hear her twin's heart beating, and the lack of that familiar, comforting rhythm brought tears to her eyes.

She didn't sob, though. Zod had told her where the surveillance devices likely were in this room, and she didn't want to give Luthor the satisfaction of hearing her cry from homesickness. So Kala squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears leak out silently, forcing herself not to tremble. _ I want to go home,_ she thought pitifully. _Please, all I want is to go home… Daddy, find me soon._

_

* * *

  
_


	27. The Consequences of Silence

**Greetings, all. Sorry that the delivery is so late on this one, but it's been a crazy last little while for ourselves and our betas. Hopefully we're back on track now, as the next chapter has already been started and we have a planning meeting at The Loop (or some other such sit-down food) as soon as I get this posted.**

I'm planning to set up the next fanmix in the next little while. Anyone have any songs that make you think of _**Heirs**_? Let me know and I might be able to include it. :D

And now, without further ado, the chapter!

**ETA: We forgot something in the last scene - it was in our notes for this chapter but just got overlooked. Ooops!**

* * *

Lois knew she had to have said it about a thousand different nights before this, but she could never remember being as exhausted as she currently found herself. Carrying Kristin toward her room after taking her back from Elise, it felt as if the little girl's warm weight was the only thing tethering her to reality. It had been years since she had been so tightly on her guard, the foundations of her life and the world around her shaken to the core. A part of her just simply wanted to back herself into a corner with her gun out and wait to see what happened next. But the kids needed her to keep her head, especially since she was the only parent here right now.

Kristin had been quiet, and Lois thought she was asleep as she laid the little girl down in her own bed. But as she smoothed the blanket and bent to offer a good-night kiss, Kristin wound her little hand around Lois' hair. Who could blame her for not wanting to be let go of right now? The redhead opened her bleary eyes and whimpered, "I want my Mommy." She sounded so much like a cranky baby Kala that the reporter's heart lurched. Kristin continued, "I want Kala too, an' I wanna go home and go to sleep and wake up and not be sick and everything be okay again!"

Oh, that was far too close to what was in Lois' heart at the moment. Picking her up again, Lois snuggled Kristin close. "Hush, baby," she whispered, and told what she hoped wasn't a lie. "Everything's gonna be okay. Your mommy's fine, you can go see her tomorrow, and Kala will be home soon." That wasn't enough, Kristin still sniffling, so Lois broke out her failsafe method of getting kids to sleep: she hummed _Wildest Dreams_, the lullaby that had worked so well on the twins, and which they had passed on to Kristin.

The little one had finally calmed her tears, Lois still holding her tightly, humming softly near Kristin's ear, her lips against the bright auburn of her hair. Her poor little Dormouse; too many scares in one day on top of this cold and her mother, father, and Kala missing. Since it was clear that she only remembered parts of the last hour, Lois found herself grateful to the pediatrician for choosing a cold medication that induced grogginess. The sniffles slowly quieted to tiny whimpers before her deep breathing finally evened out. Taking her time sitting up, Lois carefully adjusted the Kristin's head so that she could lower her down to the bed. Watching her apprehensively, Lois heaved a sigh of relief when the little girl snuggled down between the pillows on her own.

She had just stroked a hand through the child's hair when she realized that someone was at the door. Seeing as how her thoughts had been creeping toward Kala this whole time, it should have been no surprise to find Jason peeking in the doorway. His voice was a bare whisper, seeing that his little sister was sleeping. "Mom? Can I talk to you again?" Even in the half-light of the door, his agitation was like a beacon. Just glancing at that conflicted expression on his face told her something else had happened to get him riled up again; a few minutes ago on the balcony, Jason had seemed calmer and more in control.

The smile Lois felt on her lips was dangerously close to false. There had been times over the years that she had regretted the deal she had made for their safety, but never more than now. Were the stolen years worth all of this? For a moment, she felt the frustrated tears start, and ruthlessly shoved it away. Now was not the time. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn't get her daughter back, it wouldn't help Lana or Richard, and it sure as hell wouldn't help her. Taking a deep breath to ground herself again, Lois nodded to her son. "Just a minute, sweetheart," she murmured back, leaning down to give Kristin a kiss on the forehead. The little redhead never stirred and Lois had another moment of pure gratefulness. Let at least one of them have a respite from this and for as long as possible.

Leaving the dimness of the bedroom, Lois blinked when she and Jason passed into the living room. Maggie was still getting Elise's statement, the girl starting to look calmer now that Maggie no longer considered her a suspect. Bagel was currently curled up at her feet and watching all passers-by wearily despite her sleepy eyes, only looking a little worse for wear. Fortunately the beagle hadn't been injured by Giselle's kick. As they made their way to the study, Elise glanced up at them when they passed, the distress there making Lois' heart ache. _Make that __**three**__ kids that need me right now. And one that had no reason to be involved._ She fought the sigh she felt coming and comforted herself with giving Elise a fond, encouraging nod. That was enough to provoke a small smile before Elise nodded back. With Jason behind her, she couldn't be sure, but it seemed as though he had to have made a gesture as well from the fact that she had actually managed a smile. It was something encouraging in a day of chaos.

Not wanting to interfere and fairly certain that the girl felt a little better, Lois and Jason continued on to the upstairs study for privacy. Before she even opened the door, the reporter had already started gearing up to tell her son it wasn't his fault he'd dated the enemy. It would be the first words out of his mouth, she was sure, because that was the only thing they hadn't covered just a minute ago. Yet another one of those things that occasionally wounded her where her son was concerned, and something she should have anticipated. Clark's guilt complex had definitely bred true…

The moment the door was closed, Jason blurted out what he had been keeping bottled up. "Mom, I need to know how Dad does it."

That threw Lois for a loop, looking at the boy with wide-eyed surprise. Well, that was unanticipated. "What do you mean?" Lois asked carefully, immediately changing her line of thinking.

Jason gave a huge, heavy sigh then, his shoulders slumping in a way that indicated that he had expected this response. Walking away from her, he dropped onto the couch and rubbed his hands over his face before looking up at Lois. The bewildered look on his face was one she had seen so many times when he was a child. The one that said that he knew he had to know the answer, but it was just out of his reach. And there was no feeling that Jason hated more. He was silent for a moment as he groped for the words to explain, then said, "Giselle- … I was so mad at her, Mom. She _kicked_ Bagel."

Lois had been told; the little dog was obviously fine now, apparently more startled than hurt. She couldn't help but find it rather ironic that Jason was angrier over Giselle kicking Bagel than he was over her turning a gun on him. Leaning back against the door, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him with affection. "All things considered, I'd say that's a perfectly justifiable reason to be mad," the reporter told her son.

The look on his face told her that hadn't been the answer he wanted. "Mom, it's not that," Jason said earnestly, shaking his head. Whatever was the exact problem, it was obviously disturbing him pretty badly. And it hurt to watch him struggle with it. "It's … I saw her when they led her out, and she's already got bruises on her arms. One of the cops commented on it. I hurt her – I could've hurt her bad. Really bad. When I first went after her, I could've really, really hurt her – and not been upset about it at all."

_Oh, so __**that's**__ what this is all about. Being ashamed of himself for not being able to control his anger. Not a huge surprise, after all. _That was so like him; as usual, torn between her inherited traits and Kal-El's. "Jason," Lois said gently, really thinking about how to lead him to the response he needed, then decided to take a slightly different track. "So why didn't you? You're more than strong enough."

Again, that heavy sigh. The boy's hands clenched as he looked down. "It wasn't _right_. And see, that's the problem – it wouldn't be right to hurt her, even though she probably deserves it, and now I feel guilty for having bruised her up _and_ I still want to punch her for threatening us. So I was trying _not_ to hurt her, and I should've been able to take her down like Dad does, one move and _wham_, the fight's over."

Lois sat down next to him, considering. As was typical of her son, Jason had several different issues going on at once. One of them was the fact that the little pit-viper had been his girlfriend, which was a whole other song and dance. She was fairly certain that he was shoving aside his feelings at the moment to deal with the fallout. Biting her lip, she had to admit that that particular trait came from her. Another was the heroic ideals that Jor-El was drumming into him; Lois herself had dealt out a little vengeance in her time, and felt perfectly justified in doing so. Wherever Steve Lombard was working these days, his hand probably still ached when it rained.

But Jason wanted to be more like Clark, one of those turn-the-other-cheek types, and Lois couldn't fault him for it. With his strength, if he started to think violence was justified- … well, witness Clark in Nick's dorm room, flipping the bed with one hand because what he _really_ wanted to do was punch the college boy for fooling around with his sixteen-year-old daughter.

"I don't fight," Jason was saying. "I've always been afraid I'd hurt someone, ever since…" He had to swallow before he could continue. "Ever since I killed that guy on Luthor's yacht."

_Oh God, is he always going to beat himself up over that?_ Lois overrode him immediately, shaking her head, "Jason, you were just a kid. The guy tried to mess with Kala and you were just trying to protect her. You didn't know that…"

But Jason pulled the same trick to take the conversation back. "I know that, Mom, but it doesn't change the fact. The thing is, the only person I ever fight with is Kala, and we don't even really _fight_ fight, you know?"

"I know." Lois was reminded of the time a couple of years ago when Jason had annoyed his sister one too many times. He'd burst into her room, trying to startle her, and Kala had reacted so quickly she'd actually thrown him into the door. Fortunately, the door hinges had given out and Jason wasn't hurt, but that had been the definitive end to any physical squabbling between the twins. They might muss each other's hair, but neither raised a hand to the other.

"All those karate classes helped," Jason continued, his brow furrowed in thought, "but we had to quit when I was like eleven and stronger than the instructor. And now- … and now I can't even hold Giselle down and wait for the cops to get here without having to worry about killing her." Those blue eyes were full of recrimination and pain when his gaze met hers. "And the worst is that a part of me wanted to. Because I really, really wanted to just smash her, just once, but if I did that I'd probably break her neck or something. God, I really could have hurt her and I didn't care, Mom. I really didn't. She's the reason Kala's gone and all of this craziness is going on."

He looked so much like his father when a rescue went wrong, that wounded disappointment in one's self, that Lois' façade of strength slipped just a little. With a sigh, she pulled his head to her shoulder. The boy came willingly. He was so young to be having to deal with this. His father had at least been an adult when he had first really dealt with having to control himself and his impulses. "Oh, Jason," Lois murmured, ruffling his hair gently. "I think you're already pretty much doing what your father does. You _didn't_ hurt her, you know, and you stopped her from hurting anyone else."

"Yeah, but I was a total klutz about it," she heard him mumble against her shoulder. "I really have to get going on this stuff. Dad wouldn't have made a mistake like that."

_Your dad was also over twice your age when he started doing this_, Lois started to say, but had to bite her tongue. She had tried, in vain, to stop Jor-El from pressuring her kids onto the hero path, but Clark had told her numerous times that no one was pressuring Jason. He was pushing _himself_ to that high standard, and it was all Clark and Jor-El could do to hold him back a little. And in spite of how much his legacy was on his mind, here was her sweet boy worrying that he didn't do _enough_. In the end, she only said, "I'm proud of you, Jason. I really don't think your dad could have done any better under the circumstances. There's plenty of time to learn, sweetheart. Stop beating yourself up."

And even though Jason stayed silent afterwards, taking the comfort she wanted so badly to give, she wondered if he would take it to heart. Or if he truly would be allowed to take his time.

…

"How the hell does he do that?" Luthor snarled, pulling the headphones off and tossing them onto the table in front of him.

"What do you mean?" Mercy asked, even though she knew the answer. While she listened, she scanned the large bank of monitors on the wall before them. Some showed locations in the facility, others brought in the news feed from Metropolis, still others were dedicated to showing the sound waves being digitally recorded in twenty locations, and one displayed the results from the search program installed on the computers at the _Daily Planet_.

"The damned alien outmaneuvered me again," Luthor muttered bitterly. "I can't figure out how he always manages to pull it off. We were so close…"

"He hasn't outmaneuvered you," Mercy said quietly. That got her Lex's full attention, and she continued in the same subdued tone, "He wasn't even present for two of the attacks. He stopped the sniper, but his son and the designer had to defend themselves. No, he was just lucky." She shrugged. "It happens. You can never eliminate random chance from real-world equations."

"So we fail completely, and you'd blame _luck_?" Luthor's voice had gone soft and dangerous, but Mercy met his gaze steadily.

"What makes you think we failed?" she asked, raising one blonde eyebrow and leaning back in her chair.

Luthor stared at her. "They're still alive."

"The objective wasn't to kill them," Mercy said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her ankles.

Luthor looked at her with raised eyebrows, waiting for an explanation for this seeming nonsense. Mercy knew that anyone else would likely have been disciplined for contradicting the boss, but she had certain privileges. Not for nothing was she the only employee who could call him by his first name.

The blonde smiled. "Lex. The objective all along was to cause fear and panic, and to sow distrust and dissension amongst our enemies. I'd say we've achieved that, haven't we?" She looked pointedly at one of the screens, where the evening news in Metropolis showed a visibly upset Cat Grant reporting on the attack on Lana.

"True," Luthor said. "But you said you wanted a gory, shocking crime scene, something that would scar them all for life."

"And I got one," she replied. "At Hope's expense, true, but if she can't defend herself against a terrified designer we don't need her working for us. In fact, this may even work more to our advantage than the original plan. Instead of having to cope with the grisly death of his childhood friend, Superman now has to see her as a killer."

Luthor smiled. "I like it," he said. "You're right, it's worse than killing her; we've made her into something he despises."

"Precisely," Mercy said. "Furthermore, we should stop _now_. We've frightened them all, and with Giselle's unsuccessful attempt on the boy's life, they're suspicious of everyone and everything. They'll be jumping at shadows. Now is the time for us to fall back, conserve our strength, and focus on our _real_ goals. Namely, the girl."

Luthor nodded slowly, and Mercy continued, "This is _your_ strategy, Lex. You were the one who, ten years ago, deliberately threatened the Lane woman when you had no plans of acting on it for several months. While they're trying to decipher where our next attack will strike, we can move unfettered, and let the havoc we've begun continue under its own power."

"A brilliant plan – if I do say so myself," Luthor replied. Mercy knew perfectly well how vain he was about his own intelligence, and reminding him that this was one of his own successful ploys guaranteed he'd be swayed. Now for the coup de grace…

"And since we have the downtime while the girl sleeps," Mercy purred, "I have a few suggestions as to how we might celebrate our success…"

…

Maggie was on the offensive; the angry policewoman was a sight to behold. She'd already gotten police protection onto every member of the family, as well as the close friends, since Luthor had shown he was willing to target anyone whose loss would wound Lois. Even now, Perry White was grumbling about the squad car in his driveway, and Cat Grant was in the back of another, on her way to Maggie's apartment. Safety in numbers; no one would be alone tonight.

The inspector was fighting the urge to haul _all_ of them to some central, safe location and hover around them like a broody hen. Realistically, that just wasn't possible. With cops at the hospital and surrounding the Lane-Kent apartment, though, it felt a little safer.

Still something gnawed at her. She'd had Giselle taken downtown, and officers were searching the girl's known address. Maggie wasn't looking forward to interviewing the little snake; she had known Jason and Kala since they were two and half years old, and she'd found it difficult to resist smacking the sneer off the girl's face. Not professional, and not exactly just, either. Meanwhile, the background check continued, and the crime scene at the Whites' apartment was top priority for the forensics department. Plus she'd placed a few other calls that would soon bear fruit.

"And what about the Troupes?" she said into her cell phone.

"Covered. Even got a retired detective with a boat sitting in the river, covering that approach."

In spite of the seriousness of their current situation, Maggie couldn't help her smile. "Nice touch, Dan."

"Least we caught our mole." Turpin sounded as discouraged as she felt. There should have been so much more they could do besides just sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was too bad you couldn't arrest people for the crimes they were _going_ to commit.

That thought in mind, she glanced around the apartment warily. "Yeah," she finally agreed, not willing to say more. She hung up with Dan and moved on to her next priority.

Knowing that Lois was still upstairs with Jason, she made her way up to the study, knocking on the closed door. At Lois' called greeting, she opened it to find them both on the couch, Jason looking exceptionally wrung-out. Maggie's heart went out to the boy; this whole situation had to be like a nightmare for him. A nightmare they could quickly end if they could just find out for sure just who these attacks were being ordered by. Giving an apologetic smile, she told Lois, "I know you two needed some time to talk, but I need to talk to you, Lois. Something about the case." Remembering the sniper, she stopped to consider before adding thoughtfully, "And not outside, either. Isn't there a laundry room in the basement?"

Jason and Lois traded a curious look before Lois nodded. "Yeah, of course there is," Lois said with an eyebrow raised, clearly not getting what she was up to, "but why there, Mags?"

It bothered her to pull them away from each other at a time like this, but minutes might count. "You'll see," the inspector replied reluctantly. "C'mon."

Seeing that this had to be important, Lois rose, squeezing her son's hand one more time. Jason gave her a little smile, looking determined, and let her go. The two women headed down alone, Maggie on her guard, scanning every inch of hallway with one hand on her gun. Once she'd checked out the laundry room, she turned to find Lois leaning against a coin-operated washer and staring at her. "What's with the spook routine?" the reporter asked.

Maggie sighed. God, she hated to even hint at her suspicions, but not saying anything could prove utterly disastrous. "Okay, here's the thing. I can't get a team out to check over your apartment until tomorrow," she said with obvious caution, "so I don't want to say anything important up there, okay?"

Already the puzzled look on Lois' face was quickly giving way to a wary frown. "Why not?" Then it seemed to sink in and Lois' expression went beyond wrathful as she answered her own question. "_Shit._ The place is bugged, isn't it?"

"Almost has to be," Maggie replied, running a hand through her hair. "That's the only way they could know exactly when Kala left. We'll take care of it first thing in the morning, but that team's on a government case and they can't get loose until then. For now, don't talk about it in the apartment – and try not to let Luthor know you know about the bugs."

Lois swore under her breath, ending with, "Luthor's like a goddamn spider, his webs stick to everything."

Maggie's tone was bitter when she added, "Yeah, if only we could swat him with a newspaper and never have to worry again. About that- … I'll know more in the morning, but I doubt this is the end of his involvement. Get ready, Lois. I get the feeling Luthor's not playing games this time. He'll do his worst, and he'll do it soon."

The reporter closed her eyes in exhaustion and frustration. _I need to talk to Clark,_ she thought as they both headed back to the apartment.

…

Somewhere up above, the sun had set, and perfect darkness cloaked the few buildings that were situated above ground. But down here, the lights always burned, throwing off their imitation sunlight. Zod sat quietly beneath them, feeling his powers slowly recharge. So slowly – how he wished he could get out into true sunlight, fly once more, and soar up above the atmosphere into the yellow sun's glory…

Patience. It was a hard-won skill, but he had learned it. And so he waited, soaked in the light, and kept watch over the corridor outside. If he was to have any hope of subverting Luthor's plan for the girl, he would have to show himself to be her vigilant protector. She had to trust him; all his plans depended on it.

…

Lana was out of surgery and awake, so Clark left Richard with her. Richard was still too shell-shocked to think any further than simply being grateful that he and Lana were both alive, so Clark decided to update everyone for them.

He got a nasty surprise when he searched for Lois' heartbeat, intending to fly by and give her the good news. She was talking to Maggie- … and their apartment was full of police officers. Clark was _there_ in seconds, cape rippling at his super-sonic speed, but while surveying the penthouse he realized that there was no good way to explain his sudden arrival to the cops. Whatever had just happened, they all seemed to have it under control.

_I still should have been here,_ he told himself angrily. Yet another failure to guard his family… Quickly, Clark searched out all of the extended family, every one of their friends and coworkers, flying at top speed to do it. So far, everyone was all right, under police protection and forewarned against the threat. "At least _someone's_ doing their job, even if I'm not," Clark muttered.

Finally, he flew to Smallville, hovering over the Kent farmhouse. Ma was in the kitchen washing dishes, and Ben was watching the nightly news. Clark sighed, wishing for the days when he could just fly into the house whenever he needed to talk to his mother. Since Ben still wasn't in on the family secret, though, a certain amount of subterfuge was necessary.

Clark sent Martha a brief text message asking her to meet him in the barn. He didn't have to worry about Ben seeing the message; ever since she broke her hip, Ma kept the phone in her pocket all the time. Ben had found her within a few minutes of her injury, but she was still haunted by the feeling of helplessness, of not being able to even stand up.

He saw her look at her phone, and then she called to Ben that she was going out for a minute. That apparently wasn't unusual, and Clark flew silently over to the barn. A moment later, Martha joined him. "Son?" she called into the darkness.

"Here." Clark stepped out of the shadows. "Ma… I've got bad news."

"What's wrong?" she asked, her faded blue eyes searching his keenly. Martha looked all of her years when she added with clear dread, "Oh, Clark, it's not Kala, is it?"

"Yes," Clark replied with a heavy sigh, "but not just Kala." He quickly summarized the day, and the proof of Luthor's involvement in Kala's kidnapping was just as bitter now as it had been when he first realized he'd flown right into a trap. And then he had to tell Martha about the attempt on Lana's life.

The older woman gasped, her complexion going chalky. Clark hastened to tell her that Lana was all right, but she needed a moment to compose herself. He knew just how she felt – when he'd arrived at the Whites' penthouse, his heart had plummeted. Not just because of the amount of blood; Clark had seen blood before, including his own, and a brief look revealed that none of Lana's injuries were life-threatening. It was a very rare thing to see Lana so confused and disheartened, though, and that wounded him. Under normal circumstances, she was optimistic and organized and reliable, so consistently positive that Lois claimed there must be _something_ wrong with her. To see her in the grip of shock and trauma… And to have Kala still out there, lost and alone, just compounded the feelings.

"What else?" Martha asked, and Clark smiled. Ma was another strong woman in his life, one who could take a nasty shock like that and come back determined.

"From what I've gathered, Luthor tried something at home, but the situation's under control now," Clark said. "Inspector Sawyer has police protection on _all_ of our family and friends in Metropolis. You should be careful out here, too."

"It'll be hard for that snake-in-the-grass to get at us," Martha said defiantly. "You can't put a stranger into Smallville without them sticking out like a sore thumb. But I'll keep watch anyway. And _you_ should get home, son."

"I will. I just need one more favor, Ma."

"Anything," she replied easily.

"I hate to ask it, but could you go see Martin and Annette? I'd rather they hear it from you in person than me on the phone. And I can't very well explain how I got here so fast."

It hurt to see how worn she looked, nodding at him with shared sympathy. He hated bringing her news like this. He hated even more than she was going to have to hide some of this news from Ben. "Of course," she said as always, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I love you, son. If you need anything, anything at all…"

"I know who to call. I love you, too, Ma," Clark said, and hugged her gently. With that gesture, he flew back toward the apartment, dreading what he would learn.

…

After giving her version of events to three different police officers, and finally writing it down, Elise was more than ready to go home. It was one thing to meet Jason's Aunt Maggie in a casual setting, _completely _another to be surrounded by policemen in uniforms and detectives in suits, feeling like she was under constant scrutiny. Besides, in another two hours it would be January third, and Elise hadn't gotten a full night's sleep at all this New Year. She wanted the peace and quiet of her parents' apartment, but she knew that just waltzing out the door was probably a bad idea. She didn't want to do anything that would make her a suspect again.

After a full ten minutes of deciding the best way to go about asking with ending up in handcuffs, Elise found Inspector Sawyer talking on the phone in the hallway outside the apartment. Seeing the severe look on the cop's face, she waited politely for her to end the call. "Um, if we're all finished here, can I go home?" she asked with the calmest voice she could muster.

Maggie considered for a moment before giving a brisk nod. "Sure. We have all we need for now. I don't want you walking around, though. There's no telling who they'll go after next. Call your parents and tell them you're coming home in a squad car."

_Damn, I thought that was going to happen. Maybe I can play it off_… Biting her lip, Elise got her phone out, then hesitated when she felt Sawyer's eyes on her. Now, that she thought about it, she was Jason's ex-girlfriend and if this Luthor guy knew enough about Jason to set up all of this, maybe home wasn't the best idea. "There might be a problem," she finally said, wincing.

Sawyer raised her eyebrows. "What's that?"

"It's my parents," Elise began, and then sighed in defeat. Better to just get the truth out there, especially with the way the cop was looking at her. "My parents are in Switzerland. They won't be back for a week."

"So you're home alone?" Sawyer questioned.

"Yeah."

The inspector sighed and rubbed her temples in frustration. "Kid, this isn't just Jason's girlfriend having a psychotic break. Someone out there kidnapped Kala, and he's not above killing off her family and friends to try and stop them from coming after her. If I send you home alone, even with cops at the door, you might be the next target."

Elise tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. She hadn't forgotten the gun in Giselle's hand, the sound of the gunshot. Somehow she'd always known this family would drag her into some kind of madness, but it was hard to believe that her life might actually be in danger. "So what am I going to do?" she asked. Oh, Mom and Dad were just gonna _love_ this explanation…

"Come with me," Sawyer said, and tracked Lois down. She was in the living room with Jason, the pair of them having finished with their own statements. "Lane, can you put Ms. Thorne up for the night? I don't want her going home to an empty house, considering the situation."

"Your parents aren't home?" Jason exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. "Jeez, Elise, don't you know how dangerous that is?"

Elise bristled at that. "Yeah, well, _now_ I do."

"Shut it, kids," Sawyer snapped, stopping the fight before it was fully-formed. "Lois?"

The reporter's reply was instant. It hadn't been so long ago that Elise had been considered a member of the family and it showed now. "It's a given. There's no way I'm sending her home tonight. Elise, call your parents and let them know you're staying here tonight, okay? You can have the couch, I'll find some sheets and a nightgown…"

Jason scowled. "Mom, Bagel sleeps on the couch," he said. "Elise, um, you can sleep in Kala's room. She wouldn't mind…"

All of them paused, feeling the empty space in their lives that Kala usually filled, and then Elise said, "Okay. I'd better go call Mom and Dad, then." Actually, she had no intention of doing so, knowing how her parents felt about her relationship with Jason, but as long as she was home by tomorrow afternoon, it wouldn't matter. Less to worry them with. God knows the truth about today would have them on a red-eye flight home.

As she turned to leave the room, she heard Sawyer say to Lois, "We're gonna be leaving in a few minutes here. Better call Clark and let him know what's up so he's not surprised by the cops in the lobby."

Elise sighed; she had stayed in Kala's room quite often for sleepovers and such, but it seemed distinctly weird now. Without Kala in it, the room already had that melancholy air that disused rooms get after a while. Elise sat down on the bed and looked at the table where the ferret's cage had been. "We'd better find you, Kala," the teenager whispered to the empty room.

…

Lana lay awake, the fingers of her good hand laced through Richard's. She was safe, Kristin was safe, their friends and family were safe, and she wanted very much to slide into sleep again. She'd just said goodbye to Clark and then called Kay, who had been frantically trying to get information ever since the first news bulletins had gone out. Reassuring her assistant was more difficult than she expected; she and Kay had worked together for a long time, becoming friends in the process, and the younger woman had been too busy trying to keep the business in line to let herself absorb the fact that her boss had almost died. She'd actually broken down crying on the phone, and Lana had gently soothed her.

Now the redhead was exhausted, but sleep was held at bay by the throbbing ache in her hand. The surgeon told her that he'd repaired her severed tendons, and that she could expect to regain full use of her hand with physical therapy. That was a blessing, at least, but the pain while it healed was keeping her awake.

She must've glanced at the morphine pump, because Richard murmured, "Does it bother you?"

Lana chuckled. "I don't like the whole idea of morphine. Especially how doped-up I felt coming out of surgery. But I doubt I can avoid pain meds entirely."

"Stick with the morphine for now," Richard advised. "It'll help you sleep. Tomorrow they can switch you to something a little less potent. But for tonight, I just want to see this go away." He ran his thumb gently over the worry-line between her eyebrows, and Lana smiled. "There, just like that."

"You're a better pain reliever than any drug," she told him, and Richard gave her a ghost of his usual insouciant grin.

But she decided to take his advice, for the moment. One hesitant press of the button beside her bed, and oblivion started to flow into her veins. Lana closed her eyes and felt the pain recede – it still hurt, but it seemed to be happening to someone else far away. That was much more manageable, and she still felt fairly clearheaded.

"We're not giving up," Lana said after a few minutes. Richard, who had been beginning to doze, sat up to look at her. "I won't let him scare me away. This," she explained, raising her bandaged hand for emphasis, "just means we have to stop Luthor before he can go after anyone else."

"You amaze me," Richard said softly. "When I first saw you ten years ago, you were the nicest person I'd ever met. The _best_ person, in a lot of ways. And then you turned around and threw yourself into the search for someone else's kids."

"It was the right thing to do," Lana replied.

"Yeah, but most people wouldn't have had the guts to do it," Richard said. "Now here you are, the same crazy bastard tried to kill _you_ this time, and all you can think about is stopping him from hurting anyone else. Anyone else would either be scared to death or out for personal revenge. Are you secretly some kind of saint or something?"

Lana smiled and stroked his cheek. "Oh, I'm scared, all right," she responded. "But I can't let that stop me. You need me, Lois and Clark need us, and Kala needs all of us. Luthor can't win this time. Not if there's anything we can do to stop him."

"I love you so much," Richard sighed, and kissed her knuckles. "Sleep now. Tomorrow we'll get started on bringing the fight to Luthor."

…

As it turned out, Clark walked into his own apartment just after the police walked out, causing more than a little worry. "Lois?" he called softly as he shut the door behind him. "What did I miss?"

"Shhh," Lois whispered immediately, appearing by his side with a finger to her lips. "Elise is here – she's home alone, so I let her stay. Safety in numbers." Stepping into the circle of his arms, she leaned up to place her lips against his ear and barely breathed the words, "Maggie thinks the apartment is bugged, so watch what you say. Her men are going to take care of it in the morning, but there wasn't time tonight."

Blue eyes stormy, Clark tensed in anger, but forced himself to relax. If Luthor was listening to everything they said, he couldn't let the megalomaniac know that _they_ knew about the bugs. "That's just what we need," he growled, thinking, _Luthor, I was raised not to hate my fellow man, but you are seriously pushing the limits of my tolerance._ This was not something he could deal with at the moment, so he sighed against Lois' hair and asked again, "So what happened?"

"Long story short, our son was dating the enemy," Lois said dryly. Clark couldn't hold back a gasp, and she continued just as grimly, "Giselle was a spy, planted by Luthor, and she was sent here today to kill Jason. Probably Kristin, too." The bitterness in her voice made Clark hold her tighter, even as he felt acid rise in the back of his throat. How many times had Giselle been in the house? How many times had she been left alone with the twins?

Clark knew he couldn't cry out, couldn't let Luthor's listening devices know just how much that rocked him. To have had one of his greatest enemies' tools under this roof, pretending to be his son's girlfriend, galled him. Thank God he could at least trust Lois … and perhaps Jason had learned a valuable lesson in all of this. That was the only way he could think about it without wanting to scream and tear his hair out in complete frustration.

Finally, Clark murmured, "I never liked her, but I wouldn't have guessed she was working for _Luthor_. How did you find out?"

"I recognized the woman who tried to kill Lana as someone who'd dropped Giselle off a couple times," Lois replied with a deadly-calm air. "Maggie and I raced over here, but Jason had the situation under control." She paused before adding, "He's kind of worried about it, actually. You should talk to him. He thinks he didn't do well, but the simple fact is, he took her down without anyone getting hurt."

"That's all that matters," Clark replied before veering off into a guilt trip. "I can't believe I missed that. I should've been listening more closely. I was so busy making sure Lana was okay, when the real threat was here…"

Stop it right now, hero. I see what you're doing and we're not doing this tonight." Lois' voice was sharp now, her gaze stony, and she caught his chin. "Everyone's okay. Lana's in the hospital and safe, Giselle didn't manage to hurt anyone, Jason didn't really hurt her, Kristin's only a little shaken up, and Maggie and I didn't shoot the little bitch and cause more paperwork."

"I still should have been here," Clark insisted. "And Kala…"

The mention of their still-missing daughter only seemed to make Lois angrier. It took of all the strength in that small body not to yell. "Goddammit, Kal-El, you're not _God_. I've been telling you this for years. You can't watch all of us all the time. The important thing is, we're all alive and relatively whole. And we will find Kala and we're going to do it soon. He wouldn't be doing this if we weren't on the right trail. And this is exactly what he wants you to do. So stop it."

Without another word, Clark was hugging her close. He still felt responsible – he could've stopped Giselle so easily, if only he'd been listening – but Lois was right. For the moment, everyone was okay.

Except Kala. They had no way of knowing if she was all right.

That thought drained his last reserves of optimism and perseverance. Dropping his head onto Lois' shoulder, he murmured, "I just want to go to sleep."

"Sounds like a plan to me, hero," Lois replied softly, stroking his hair. "Just don't roll over and squash the Dormouse, okay?"

"I think I can manage that," Clark told her, and they both headed for the bedroom. Jason was already in bed, Bagel snuggled up beside him, and a quick check of Kala's room revealed Elise still awake but drifting off. Kristin was still zonked out in their bed, so there would be no comforting tonight, other than the simple comfort of having Lois in his arms. Clark was too exhausted to do more than hold her, anyway, and judging by the look of her, Lois felt the same. This had certainly been the longest two days of his life.

The lights off, both of them under the covers, Kristin burrowed between them, and Lois whispered, "I'm too tired now, but there's something I need to talk to you about in the morning."

"In the morning," Clark repeated gratefully, glad he wouldn't have to worry about anything _else_ tonight.

But to Clark's dismay, sleep wasn't forthcoming. He lay exhausted but awake, staring through the ceiling at the sky as the stars slowly wheeled through their ageless dance. After an hour, he gently stroked Lois' shoulder, but the rhythm of her breathing didn't change. Even when Clark nuzzled her cheek, she stayed fast asleep, curled against his shoulder, her arm around Kristin. Her eyes were tightly closed, and this was not the relaxed sleep of contentment. Instead, Lois slept as if she were trying to escape the waking world. Which Clark supposed was reasonable.

Now if only he could find the same respite. But if sleep had deserted him for the evening, there was no point in lying here. Clark got up, careful not to disturb Lois or Kristin even though he suspected nothing short of explosives could wake them. Getting dressed in his uniform, Clark slipped out of the apartment and took to skies.

If he could find no rest this night, at least he could soak up some sunlight to recharge himself, and continue the search. After all, he could do without sleep, but Lois had to rest.

* * *


	28. Secrets and Lies Prt II

One thing: no, we are not sinking the _Good Ship Clois_. Everyone just take a deep breath. It may seem that way, but we know what comes next. You know the darkest comes before the dawn. Say it with me: **CLOIS**. But we play this as close to real as we can and things aren't always black and white. The good news is that the worst of their troubles is out in the open after this chapter.

Hope that makes everyone feel a little better!

* * *

Deep in dreamless sleep, Elise snuggled into the pillow under her cheek, warm and comfortable. She felt safe here, the scents in the air both familiar and not. Things had been awful yesterday, crazy beyond the point of belief, but at the moment she felt as though she had found a shelter against it all in her dreams. That comfort was broken when something cold and wet lingered on her bare toes. The shock of the contact, so out of place with her current mindset, ripped Elise out of her drowsy state, noticing as she opened her eyes that she was in Kala's room. That explained the recognized scents. Blinking and frowning, still not a hundred percent aware, her gaze wandered down and saw that the Kents' dog, Bagel, was sitting beside the bed and staring at her._ Ah, the usual suspect_. "Were you _licking_ my toes, you freak?" the girl asked in disgusted disbelief, wrinkling her nose before pulling her foot back under the covers. Bagel whined happily and jumped up on the bed, trying to lick Elise's face. It didn't really surprise her that Bagel started wagging harder at 'freak', remembering that Kala had teased the beagle by calling her that at times. Nevertheless, a faceful of foot-licking dog was not something she wanted this early in the morning. "Eww! Gross! Bagel, get down!"

It took a couple of minutes to calm the dog down, Elise resorting to scratching her back until the beagle finally felt the tithe had been paid and trotted out of the room. With such a wonderful wakeup call to start her day, it was no surprise Elise got out of bed with a roll of her eyes and an irritable groan. She wasn't exactly a morning person on the best of occasions, not quite as much of a grouch as some people, but after broken sleep in a strange bed she was far from at her best. Memories of last night were trickling back, and she wanted to be fully alert for the meeting Mrs. Lane-Kent told her would be happening today. Hurrying to get ready, Elise couldn't help thinking briefly how surreal things had become since the New Year.

Without even a look up the hallway, Elise ducked into the hall bathroom shared by the twins. Thankfully there was no Jason to be faced yet; she sighed with relief on that front. She just wasn't ready to deal at this minute. Washing her face with what had to be Kala's peppermint soap helped her foggy brain start to wake; brushing her teeth would have been nice, but she hadn't packed for a sleepover and didn't want to use anyone else's toothbrush. A thorough swish of vanilla mint mouthwash had to suffice. At least she'd had clothes to wear today; the twins' mom had told her she could use something from Kala's closet today if she wanted and, thanks to Kala's habit of 'borrowing' from anyone remotely close to her own size, making a choice wasn't difficult.

That done, Elise took a deep breath and prepared herself to face her ex. Opening the door to the bathroom and coming out into the hallway, she adjusted her mental armor. Better to get this out of the way so they could stop all the awkwardness. If she was going to help them find Kala, she and Jason had to clear the air a little. That, however, didn't mean that either of them was going to like it much. Heading up the hallway toward the kitchen, the aroma of brewed coffee reached her, and she couldn't help the way her mouth watered. Caffeine was exactly what she needed right now, she thought with utter gratefulness. And, as fate would have it, it was her ex who was in the kitchen, brewing coffee and making breakfast for Kristin.

Coming up behind her, the older girl gently ruffled her hair until Little K looked up at her. Elise couldn't help but notice that the little redhead looked hollow-eyed and miserable. Knowing how sunny her personality was normally, it hurt to see. She'd spent last night curled up with Lois, and not even the comfort of having her Lo-Lo beside her could make up for yesterday's trauma. Those blue eyes were so woeful, and the older girl went to hug her. "Hey, sweetie," she murmured against her ear.

Wordlessly accepting the affection, Kristin held on to Elise tightly for a couple minutes. Jason, looking at them, finally spoke up, "Elise, you want breakfast? We've got toast, cereal, bagels…" His tone was even, trying to keep this as light as possible.

She couldn't help but be relieved at the white flag. "I'll just get something to drink. You just worry about Little K. I'm a big girl; I know my way around a kitchen." Giving him a small relieved smile, she turned toward the refrigerator. Once her expression could only be seen by the inside of the appliance, she felt her brow furrow with worry. Jason was looking haggard too, his eyes shadowed, and though Elise was an only child, she could imagine how he felt. He and Kala had been always been so close, even though they agreed on little these days. Neither of them had ever seemed content unless they knew where the other was. This must be killing him.

She was so deep in thought that the sound of his voice caused her to startle. "Elise," he said softly, and she took a moment to calm her nerves before she looked over her shoulder at him. "That was pretty brave, what you did yesterday."

Elise couldn't help the smile that rose to her lips; with things between them the way they were, she knew what it cost him to say something like that. "Yeah, well, you looked like you needed a little help," she replied, grabbing the bottle of mango juice out of the fridge and walking over to the cupboard she knew contained the juice glasses. And, despite her decision to maintain the peace, she couldn't resist adding, "Besides, I couldn't let her shoot you. I wouldn't get the chance to tell you 'I told you so'."

Much to her surprise, Jason didn't react defensively. There was a flicker of pain over his features, clear disappointment in himself, but then he laughed softly. "Well, you know, I let the best girl I've ever known get away from me; I guess I instinctively had to go for the worst next. Karma sucks."

Elise arched an eyebrow at him as she poured the juice. True, she had been more than a little disgusted to have been replaced by something as obviously a rebound as Giselle, and as quickly as it had happened, knowing the truth of Giselle's intentions put a different spin on things. Not that it let Jason off the hook entirely, but still… "Jason, stop. There's no way you could have known," she finally said. "I mean, she had everyone fooled."

"I _should've_ known." Jason sat down heavily next to Kristin and dispiritedly watched her munch her cereal. Under his breath he added, "I knew it was a mistake. No one in the family liked her. Kala hated her…"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Elise had to laugh. "Jason, seriously. Kala hates every girl you date."

"Not you." He had still been looking at Kristin when he said it, but looked up at Elise after a moment with an expression of such absolute longing that her heart caught in her throat.

"Jason, you and I broke up for a reason," Elise said unsteadily. Why was it so hard to look into those blue eyes and remind him of this? And why did she have to remind herself as much as him?

"Tell me what that was, again," Jason said, "since I wasn't the one who wanted to split up."

Elise took a deep breath. _Oh yeah, your stubbornness was one reason._ "We were moving too fast," she replied.

"Moving too fast?" Jason inquired. "We barely did more than kiss." Neither of them would mention their make-out sessions in front of Kristin; the little girl was all too likely to ask one of the adults what making out was, and tell them exactly where she'd heard it. Still, not even that had gone very far: everyone had kept their clothes on.

Sighing loudly, Elise retorted, "Hello, you _asked_ me to _marry_ you. Your whole family freaks my parents out – if it's not your mom and dad headlining the news, it's your stepmom being a freakin' multi-millionaire and wanting to take us all to Florida for a long weekend! Not to mention you don't even act like a teenage boy half the time, you talk to my parents like you're another adult and sometimes they even forget you're a teenager. You can carry on an intelligent conversation while I'm changing in the next room, and you think it's _sexy_ when I ramble on about biochemistry!"

"It's not my fault that I think you're as close to perfect as I'm gonna get in this lifetime," Jason shot back. "Elise, look in a mirror! You're gorgeous, you're brilliant, I can talk to you for four hours straight and never even notice the time. Besides, I didn't mean get married right _now_."

And it was exactly that kind of logic that drove her nuts. No other guy had this much sense. "Jason, I'm not sure when you missed the memo, but you're _sixteen_," Elise said sharply. "You're supposed to be obsessed with breasts and trying to jump every girl you're with, not talking about who you want to spend the rest of your life with."

It was obvious from his expression that he was morally offended. "Now wait a minute! Not all guys are like that. I like looking at girls as much as any guy, but I'm not gonna drool like a moron. Elise, I grew up with a twin sister – I'm not gonna be all freaked out around girls. Besides, that's rude. Are you really complaining because I have some manners?"

"No, I'm complaining because you have no right to go around being the perfect guy and pretty much ruining my chances of seeing anyone else, because none of them can ever measure up to you, and then going and springing _marriage_ on me when I was fifteen! What was I supposed to do, Jason? That one-true-love stuff only happens in fairy tales!"

"It does not," Jason insisted. "Dad fell in love with Mom at first sight, and there was never another woman for him."

And, of course, he would bring that up. She should have expected it. Okay, then, time to bring in the big guns. "Yeah, but what about before her?" Elise retorted, arms crossed.

Jason stumbled to a halt on that, but recovered to reply, "Actually he wasn't dating in high school, he had a huge crush on Lana, but they're still friends all these years later."

Oh, _that_ was enough to make your brain hurt. "Wait, Mrs. White was your dad's high school sweetheart, and Mr. White is your mom's ex-fiancé? That's _weird_."

That got an embarrassed shrug. "It's just the way things turned out. Mom says it ties up all the loose ends. And anyway, what's this about me being perfect? I'm not perfect, and even if I was, that's totally not a reason to break up with me."

Elise threw up her hands in defeat. He wanted the truth; he deserved at least that much. Might as well tell him some of it, if not all. "No, Jason, you're not perfect. You're just too good to be true – if life was a book, you'd be the really sweet, attentive, virtuous, non-creepy guy who turns out to be an obsessed stalker or a vampire or something."

After a fleeting shocked look, Jason burst out laughing, and Kristin stopped with her spoonful of Cheerios halfway to her mouth. Most of the conversation had gone over her head, dismissed as the same sort of nonsensical argument that usually happened between older kids, but now that Jason was laughing like a hyena, she wanted to get the joke.

It took a full five minutes for Jason to get himself back under control, five minutes in which Elise's expression grew more and more annoyed. Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he finally managed, "I promise you, I'm not a vampire."

Elise just stood there and glared at him with frosty disdain. "Now that we have _that_ cleared up." She wanted to be angry at him, but she just couldn't summon the fire for it. To be honest, even if she was the butt of the joke, it was still good to see him not brooding. Wherever Kala was, Elise knew that she'd understand and approve.

For a long moment, she and Jason just looked at each other, Kristin eyeing both of them. Then Jason said quietly, "So we've established that I'm not a stalker vampire. Does this mean we're friends again?"

"Yeah, we're friends," Elise said, feeling oddly relieved. "Just don't ask me to marry you any time soon, okay?"

Before Jason could even begin to voice his exasperation, Kristin piped up with what she thought was the most important aspect of their discussion. "If you two get married, can I be the flower girl?" Both teens looked at each other, and Jason couldn't help grinning a little. Elise just rolled her eyes.

…

Richard didn't want to leave her, but Lana insisted that he go to the meeting Maggie had called. "One of us has to stay in the loop," she told him gently. "Clark's feeling so guilty, he'll want to keep us both locked up in a safe house."

"He's way too ready to take the blame," Richard muttered, kissing her hand. "All right, beautiful, I'll go. One of the officers will probably drive me, since I'm going to see Maggie. You sure you'll be fine here?"

"I'm sure. Go." She'd convinced the nurses earlier to remove the morphine line and give her some pills instead, leery of the powerful narcotic. With one more kiss, and then one more after that, Richard finally left the room.

Alone at last, Lana sank back into the pillows propped behind her and closed her eyes. What she really, really wanted to do right at that moment was fall asleep for about a week. She ached everywhere; each cut sharpened into a line of fire if she moved wrong, and her muscles were sore from the unaccustomed strain of vaulting the sofa and running for her life. Her hand, at least, had settled to a dull, steady complaint.

Physical symptoms were the least of her problems at the moment. Ever since coming out of surgery, Lana had put on a brave face, forcing herself to be calm and collected. Richard had seemed amazed by it, and several of the nurses had even commented on her fortitude. Inside, however, she was battling the urge to just break down and cry, demanding that someone come watch over and protect her. A little voice kept insisting that this wasn't her fight, and she ought to leave the war against Luthor to those who had begun it and were at least partly trained for it. She was a _designer_, for God's sake, not a hero, not ex-military, not even a born fighter like Lois.

But to turn away now was to betray more than one trust. She had only met Kala when the girl was six, but loving the twins had been part of loving Richard, and Lana adored them both just as much as she loved Kristin. All three were her children; love trumped biology every time, and she had only to look at Clark to know how true that was. Both twins had returned that love absolutely. While no one could take Lois' place in their hearts, they were both generous enough to let Lana in. If she wanted to be worthy of her oldest daughter's devotion, Lana couldn't turn back until Kala was home safe, no matter where she was or who stood between them.

And then there was the other promise Lana had made. As Ella Lane lay dying in a hospital bed much like this one, she had taken Lana's hand and whispered, "I love my girls, and I would never trade either of them … but sometimes I wish you were my daughter, too." That confession had brought tears to the designer's eyes, and her throat had been too tight to reply when Ella continued. "Lois doesn't listen well, especially not to good advice. Dare her to climb the _Daily Planet_ building, and she'll be out there with climbing hooks the next morning. Ask her to wear a safety harness and rope, though, she'll laugh at you and do it with just her bare hands."

Lana had chuckled at the analogy, winning a smile from the older woman. "She'll only listen to me – and you," Ella had murmured. "I'm her mother, and you've become the closest thing to an older sister she has. I think Lois takes your advice because she knows you admire her for her reckless bravery. You love her for being everything you aren't, and she loves you for the same reason. She knows you'd never try to cramp her style…"

"Only tone down her language, a little," Lana had finished softly. "You're right, as always, Ella. That's exactly how it is between me and Lois."

"I've had time to watch and think. And I've seen more and thought more about it than either of my girls has guessed. Lucy will be all right. She's going to miss me, but she has her life squared away. She's always been the bright one, sunlight to Lois' midnight – and a stormy night, most of the time. Lois thrives on turmoil and trouble, but it can still get to be too much for her. That's why I have to ask you something I would normally only ask of my own flesh and blood."

Immediately, Lana knew what she was meaning to say. "I'll watch out for Lois. I love her like my own sister anyway, and I would do my best for her no matter what. You don't even have to ask, Ella. Lois and Clark are as much a part of my life as Richard and all three kids are."

"Good," Ella had sighed, her hazel eyes slipping closed. "Someone has to be the light to shine the way through the storm…"

_And the light can't go out,_ Lana thought, opening her eyes and looking around her own hospital room. She had taken it upon herself to watch over the entire family, to smooth out their little disputes wherever possible, to be the gracious good humor that allowed so many strong, passionate personalities to coexist. Lana knew she had a manipulative streak to her personality, but she had long ago tamed that into something she could use to coax her family into greater happiness and harmony.

Now, though, her usual gentle measures weren't working. Even Richard seemed to think that Lois and Clark were getting along fine, focused on finding Kala, but Lana heard the silences between them, saw the hostile expressions quickly smoothed over. All was not well in the Lane-Kent house these days, and not just because Kala had been kidnapped. Lois and Clark didn't stand a chance at fighting Luthor if they were divided themselves; he would be more than glad to drive them apart and conquer them separately. After all this time, his thirst for vengeance must have grown unbearable, and Lana shuddered to think what he would do to his enemies when he had been so willing to order the death of someone who had never really done anything to him.

_You helped search the last time,_ she reminded herself, _and you were willing to die to stop him from killing Lois and Clark. Maybe that's cause for a grudge._ But still, if Luthor would have her and her child assassinated in their own home for so little, what would he do against Clark, his nemesis? And Lois, who had fought him on so many fronts, was a target on her own as well as the perfect way to hurt Clark.

No, Lana couldn't afford to give in now. She had to find a reserve of strength previously unsuspected, and most especially, she couldn't let any of them see how scared she really was. Clark had to be thinking that he should keep her as far from danger as possible, and the slightest display of weakness would convince Lois and Richard, too. If this was a war, the three of them were all far more skilled combatants than Lana could ever be. But she was their equivalent of a platoon's chaplain, taking care of the minds and hearts and souls of the rest, and that made her as essential to this as any of them.

A soft knock at the door, and Lana smiled. All of that brave reasoning was behind her decision to have Kay arrive _after_ Richard left. "Come in," she called to her assistant, sitting up in bed.

The brunette hadn't seen her boss since before the attack, and she opened the door tentatively. One glance at the bandages, and Kay gasped in horror. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Lana… It _was_ true…"

"I'm fine," the designer said, trying for her usual warm smile. "It looks much worse than it actually is. All of the cuts are superficial, and even my hand should heal quickly."

As reassuring a tone as she was trying for, Kay's expression never changed. "Things like this shouldn't happen to people like you," the younger woman said adamantly, hurrying to her boss' side. "Is there anything I can get you? Some water, anything?"

Lana couldn't help chuckling. "Yes, actually. Could you go down to the nurses' station and ask them for the forms I need to sign myself out of here?"

That statement earned a frown of disbelief. "They're discharging you already?"

"No, I believe it's called signing out AMA, or against medical advice," Lana replied smoothly, as if she had only asked for that drink of water. "Either way I plan to be out of here by morning, even if I have to get you help sneak me out the back door."

The disbelief had only deepened, Kay staring at her employer like she were spouting ancient Greek. "Have you lost your _mind_?" Kay hissed. "People are trying to kill you out there! Stay in here where it's safe and there are two cops outside asking for ID."

"Kay, there's no good reason for me to stay here at this point," Lana said firmly, "and no, I don't consider cowardice a good reason. One of my children is still missing, and I refuse to hide here when I could be helping find her."

Sharp gray eyes searched Lana's face and found the strain there, the tightness around the eyes from pain and exhaustion. Kay scowled, muttering, "I could strangle Richard for getting you mixed up in all this…"

"It's hardly his fault," Lana began to correct her, but Kay was having none of it.

"Yeah, it is," she interrupted. "Back when it was just you and me and the business, nothing like this ever happened! Everything was _fine_; the biggest worry we ever had was making sure suppliers delivered on time and the seamstresses didn't get too overworked. Then _he_ came along with all of his baggage: his ex who's Superman's ex, and every lunatic who wants to get at the hero tries to kill her or her kids ­– along with anyone who happens to be standing nearby, which these days, is _you_. These people are _freaking crazy_, Lana, and it must be contagious, because now you're trying to go out there and give that nut Luthor another chance to kill you!"

"Kay," Lana said sharply. "One, it isn't Richard's fault. He didn't set out to put me in danger; he fell in love with me, and I fell in love with him. Two, even if I had died yesterday, I wouldn't regret being with Richard."

That silenced Kay for its sheer shock value, and Lana continued calmly, "I have _three_ beautiful, wonderful children because of him, and I only had to wear maternity clothes once. I have a circle of loving, supportive friends whom I would never have met under normal circumstances. And I have Clark and Lois in my life: a friend from back when we could barely spell our own names, and a woman who's almost my complete opposite and yet somehow one of my dearest friends. Not to mention they provide free babysitting services. I still have the business, and I still have you." She left unspoken the fact that Kay was as much her friend as her assistant, but added with a slight grin, "Besides, if I hadn't fallen in love with Richard, you would never have met Laurel."

The look on Kay's face was positively mulish with reluctance, the younger woman staring at Lana as the redhead returned the look steadily. Once Kay saw that Lana wasn't going to back down, she gave a gusty sigh of defeat. "All right, you got me there," the brunette grumbled. "Fine, I'll get the forms – but I still think you're taking a huge risk."

Lana only smiled in reply. Some things were worth the risk.

…

Kala had woken up feeling a little groggy from the pain medicine. She decided to go without drugs while she got up, and a hot shower in the bathroom attached to her bedroom blew most of the cobwebs out of her mind. She'd been looking and listening everywhere for any cameras in the room and found none. _At least that's a relief. He may be a scary bastard, but he's not a pervert._ Afterward, she discovered the suitcase and backpack she had packed were in the room with her, so at least she had clean clothes. It bothered her that she hadn't heard them come in, but was pretty certain that the room was sound-proof.

Once dressed, the pain in her wrist started up again. Frowning, she glanced at the bottle of pain pills next to the sink. The fact that Luthor just casually left them at her disposal without a thought of her possibly overdosing to get away from him was starting to disturb her. Of course, he did have cameras in the bedroom itself, so maybe that was his reasoning. _No, he knows you don't want to die, that's all. And he's monitoring everything you do. Besides, you're more useful to him alive, so he's not going to poison you, either. Take the stupid pill or the pain will be a distraction. _Kala ultimately took half a pill with a glass of water from the tap. That quickly muted the pain in her wrist, but left her awake enough to think clearly.

The decision proved to be wise, as she'd only been awake for a few minutes when Schecter showed up at her door. "Want some breakfast?"

"Sure," Kala responded with a sarcastic grin. "Wanna let me go home? My brother makes a mean French Toast."

That earned her a small chuckle. "Wish I could, but not until you unlock those files for us."

And they were immediately back to that. There had to be a way she could buy some time on that, give Dad and Mom a chance to find her. Giving a sigh that she hoped wasn't too theatrical, Kala rolled her eyes. "I _told_ you I'd think about it." This would work for now, but she'd have to come up with a plan soon.

"C'mon, let's get breakfast," Schecter coaxed, and Kala followed him, yawning and trying to pretend she was much sleepier, much more doped up, than she really was.

Breakfast turned out to be served buffet-style in a large cafeteria, and Kala immediately knew why Schecter had escorted her. Several of the security guys gave her dark looks when she walked in. More frightening, though, were the expressions on the faces of the scientists – some of them looked utterly fascinated, but with no sense of connection. Kala realized with a shudder that they were looking at her like some sort of lab animal, not like a fellow human being at all.

The two groups had segregated themselves just like jocks and nerds in a high school cafeteria, and that at least was ridiculous enough to calm Kala's nerves. She didn't have much of an appetite under the circumstances, but filled a plate anyway, knowing that she'd feel the effects of the pain pill more intensely if her stomach stayed empty.

She was doing fine, returning the nasty sneers and bug-under-a-microscope looks with an expression of haughty defiance, until she saw the pancakes. Whoever the chef was down here made them medium-sized, just like Jason. And they were blueberry. The thought of her twin and his culinary specialty made homesickness rise up in a choking wave, and Kala had to close her eyes and bite her lip when what she really wanted to do was scream Jason's name loud enough for him to hear her, no matter how far apart they were.

She startled when a voice broke into those thoughts. "You all right?" Schecter asked with a curious look, sounding gentle and concerned.

Kala hardened her will against him, against yielding to anyone who worked with Luthor. "I'm fine," she said, cold and calm, just like Mom dealing with a recalcitrant source on a story. But she couldn't look at the pancakes again, and sat down to force herself to eat what was on her plate without even tasting it.

…

The Lane-Kent penthouse was spacious by Metropolis standards, but at the moment it was very crowded. The entire extended family was there, excepting only the Smallville contingent, and every seat was taken. Richard had left the hospital to attend this meeting. Lucy and Ron and their three girls had arrived, and Cat and Tobie had been there before the first coffee was brewed. Perry White was there, Loueen with him and volunteering to keep an eye on the three young children. No one wanted Michelle, Bryan, and Kristin to overhear much of what was going to be discussed, but no one wanted the kids far from their sight. Too much had happened, and by now the news that Kala had been kidnapped shortly after running away had percolated through the ranks.

Sebast had been told on the phone that morning, and had gotten there as fast as he could. Walking through the door, the first thing he did was find Jason and pull the taller boy into a hug. "We're gonna find her, _mano_," he said. Sebast knew that no matter how Jason tried to seem brave, he was going out of his mind with worry. The adults were all probably too wrapped up in their own pain and their own plans to realize that what Jason really needed at the moment was a hug, and none better to give it than his sister's best friend.

"We have to," Jason replied, the huskiness in his voice proving Sebast right. Elise saw the two of them and went over to hug them both; all three teenagers were feeling Kala's loss particularly sharply on the third day of her absence. For a moment, they simply stood together. So far, the New Year was distinctly unpromising.

"I should've rented the freakin' coliseum," Sebast heard Mrs. Lane-Kent mutter. The reporter was watching Bagel thread her way through the forest of legs to get to him, and he bent to rub her ears.

"I want this meeting here," Maggie told her quietly. Sebast snuck a look at her while pretending to be preoccupied with the dog. The policewoman's eyes were deeply shadowed; she'd been up most of the night, and it showed. "We've got the bugs, it's fairly secure, and just in case Luthor _has_ rigged up a surprise for us, we have close air support." She raised an eyebrow at Lois, who smiled wanly; the reporter had promised everyone that Superman would be close by.

"Another coffee, Maggie?" Clark was looking almost as careworn as Lois as he approached her.

"Thanks," the policewoman replied, looking over the group. "I think all of us are here, just about…"

She trailed off as the doorbell rang. Elise was turning to answer it, and Maggie shoved the mug of coffee at Clark and covered the space between herself and the foyer far more quickly than Sebast could have imagined. So when Elise opened the front door and revealed a rather sheepish looking Nick Powell, Maggie had hold of both boys' shirts before they could recover from their shock and lunge at him. "Jason, Sebast, you're going to have to defer kicking Nick's ass until _after_ we get Kala home."

Sebast muttered a few choice words in Spanish, while Jason ground his teeth, glaring at the college student. Nick raised both hands, taking a deep breath. "Look, I want to find her as much as you do…" he began.

"No," Jason spat, every word cold and precise. "You don't. She's … my … _twin_. You will _never_ understand." Sebast added profane agreement to that statement, and Maggie shook them both. At least, she tried to shake Jason, but in the heat of the moment she didn't notice that he wasn't moving.

"Knock it off," she snapped. "Every minute you three spend acting like cavemen is a minute for Luthor to plan ahead of us." That was the first time several people in the room had heard Luthor's name mentioned, and everyone went pale. Maggie let go of the two teenage boys, gave Nick a look to let him know he should have just kept his mouth shut, and went back to the front of the room. "We might as well get started," she said.

"Luthor?" Lucy managed to say at last. "Really?"

"Yes. Luthor's behind this, and he has Kala." That statement was greeted with several gasps and much muttered profanity, so Maggie continued, "Let me summarize, and those of you in the news business, this is _not_ for publication, strictly off the record, and for your ears only. Forgive me if I repeat things some of you already now – I need to bring everyone up to speed here."

That had their attention, and Maggie looked each of the reporters in the eye before speaking in her Official Statement voice. "First, you've all seen the news. Lana – that's the L. in L. Lang design, Nick, not to mention Kala's stepmom ­– was attacked yesterday. The news is calling it an intruder, but her attacker was an assassin and known associate of Lex Luthor. Lana managed to take down the assailant, but as we tried to get her out to Life Flight, a sniper on a nearby building fired on the group of us. He could have potentially killed Lana, Richard, Lois, and myself, but thanks to the timely intervention of Superman, we're all still here."

Her expression softened a little when her gaze reached Jason. "Next, the girl most of you know as Giselle Davenport turned out to be a spy. We now know she's twenty-two, not sixteen, and a career con. She's not being cooperative, but we know she was hired by another Luthor associate to infiltrate this family. That means he's been planning this at least since school began in September. Yesterday evening, Giselle arrived here with a gun, saying she was under orders to kill Jason and anyone else in the apartment with him – which means Kristin and Elise."

Richard swore, sitting bolt upright. Maggie said quickly, "Jason managed to get the gun from her; she's never done violent crime before, and I agree with his character assessment: she's not a killer. However, she does have warrants out on fraud charges in three states."

Lois gave her son a sympathetic look; he was staring shell-shocked at Maggie, who was saying, "Third, we processed the Davenports' apartment. Not only did we find a handy little diagram that showed us exactly where all the listening devices in this apartment were hidden…" She had to pause to let the angry muttering die down again. Sebast shifted angrily in his seat at the notion that someone had been listening in to all of his private conversations with Kala. Only Lois stared straight ahead stoically, having already marked this down as another item to settle her score against Luthor. "…we also lifted prints from the apartment. There were several sets: Giselle's, of course; Hope Taya, the woman who attacked Lana; and Mercedes Graves."

Now it was Lois' turn to swear. "Maggie, she's the CEO of L-Tech!"

"And Justine Davenport is her alias," Maggie replied, "based on the fact that she used the same photo for both drivers' licenses."

Even Cat and Tobie looked wide-eyed at the virulent torrent of obscenities Lois managed to pour forth. Clark turned red all the way to his ears, and Richard just leaned back with an impressed expression. Sebast's eyes widened; that pungent language could have shocked a Metropolis cabbie. Maggie waited for Lois to finish before saying, "Was all of that _English_?"

"No, I can curse in French and Italian too," Lois snapped. "Dammit, Mags, I've been looking into the Luthor/L-Tech connection for months! And the freakin' CEO of the company was _at my house_ every other week or so."

Throughout all of this, Clark had been listening while a cold chill crept up his spine. At those last words, though, he felt frozen. Lois had been investigating L-Tech? The company they both _knew_ was run by Lex Luthor, based on the vanity of the name and the Kryptonian technology it developed? If she'd been investigating that, why on earth hadn't she told him about it? Sure, they were competitive about stories, but anything involving Luthor was far too important to hide from each other…

"Well, that's just perfect," Maggie said. "Because the next item on the list is the kryptonite in Luthor's old underground hideout. It was a trap for Superman, baited with Kala's sunglasses, which is why we're fairly certain that Luthor currently has Kala. Why, we're not sure, although given his long-standing grudge against both Superman and Lois, and the fact that Superman is personally involved in the search for his godchild, I can probably make an educated guess." She didn't have to spell it out for them; Luthor was using Kala as bait for one of his plans to destroy Superman.

Lucy had taken Ron's hand, biting her lip as she glanced at her big sister. Lois always seemed to shrug off stuff like this, acting as though dealing with crazed criminals was a normal everyday occurrence, but not now. Not when it was her daughter in danger.

"Got any _good_ news?" Cat asked bleakly.

"Not really," Maggie replied. "All of you, by virtue of your connection to the Lane-Kents, are possible targets for Luthor. He's already proven he won't hesitate to attack any of Lois and Clark's close friends or family in what's presumably an effort to hinder their attempts to find Kala."

"That includes you, Mags," Tobie said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," the inspector replied, resting her hand lightly on her holster.

…

Humming softly, Lex Luthor headed into the control room to monitor the current situation. His watchers in Metropolis had reported the police activity at the Davenports' apartment, and of course he already knew Giselle was in jail. She had failed, but surely seeing his beloved turn a gun on him had shaken Jason's resolve. Yes, things were proceeding very well indeed, as Mercy had pointed out.

Lex chuckled. Mercy might have thought she was manipulating him yesterday, but he would have come to the same realization within a few minutes. She simply wasn't as disappointed in their assassins' failures as he was; then again, Mercy was a little more accustomed to lowering her standards for employees. That didn't detract at all from her efficiency as head of security … and even if it had, he would have been forgiving based on the nature of last night's celebration.

Settling into the monitoring room, Luthor checked his screens. Kala's room was empty, but rewinding the tape revealed that she'd left with Schecter. Good news. Next he picked up the headphones and tuned in to one of the remote channels.

Only static. That was _not_ good. He quickly flipped through several channels, and finally reached one with sound. A man's voice, "Should be right around here, Inspector Sawyer…"

Lex ground his teeth. So they'd finally found the surveillance devices. It had taken them long enough. He was losing another avenue of information … though it amused him to hear Sawyer swear under her breath. Flipping through the channels, he quickly realized that they were taking them down in order, moving from the front of the apartment toward the back. And as each sensor was pulled, Sawyer whispered into it a vow to capture him.

Charming, really. Luthor listened to her angry muttering while considering his options. He could simply proceed as planned, leaving the Lane-Kents and their friends preparing for another attack that would never materialize. He could fall back on some of his secondary channels of information. That insidious little program was still installed on the _Daily Planet_'_s_ servers. It monitored the search engine on the server, and whenever certain terms were searched, such as the names of his companies, it logged the IP address of the computer tied into the network and started recording every location the reporter browsed, as well as capturing each keystroke. Thanks to that clever piece of programming, Luthor had partial copies of all of Lois' notes. He would have had everything, but she tended to do some of her research on her personal laptop.

Sitting back and waiting, piecing together information from the server, was precisely what Mercy would recommend in this situation. Luthor sometimes felt her approach was too cautious; personally, he wanted to twist the knife a little further, remind everyone why they shouldn't trifle with him.

A slow smile crossed his lips as he hit upon a perfect solution, a way to cast the family into even more chaos. The surveillance devices had all been pulled, and he could safely assume that Sawyer wanted to update the entire family on yesterday's events. His watchers had reported all of them convening at the Lane-Kents' apartment. It was too easy to disrupt their little planning meeting…

Luthor picked up the phone and dialed the security office. "The girl is with Schecter somewhere," he ordered. "Find her and bring her to me in Surveillance." With that done, he leaned back in his chair, smiling.

…

Nick had been out of his depth from the moment he entered the room. He'd never met Kala's family, and only seen her brother from a distance. Nothing could have prepared him for the sheer number of people packed into the room, or for their single-mindedness. It kind of reminded him of a war room in those military movies, with everyone so serious and so focused. That brought home to him the fact that this was all _real_, and he had to step up if he wanted to keep pace. Even now, Jason, Sebast, and Elise were giving him occasional glares that let him know they thought him unworthy of even hearing this.

As Inspector Sawyer briefed them, Nick felt his stomach tighten into knots. Kala was in real trouble; people had already been injured, almost killed, and she'd only been gone three days. From the sounds of things, it was only going to get worse. The smart decision would be to get the hell out of this while he still could, but Nick couldn't bring himself to do that. Kala was something really special, and not just because he was pretty sure she was going to end up famous. She was such an incongruous mix of innocence and cynicism, maturity and reckless youth, that he found her damn near irresistible. And to abandon her now was to say that his friendship with her was terribly shallow. He didn't want that to be true; even if Kala was only interested in a little forbidden flirtation, he liked her a lot, and three days without her had shown him how much he missed her. Maybe not forever, til-death-do-us-part, but he wanted her around for a long time to come.

"We've already had to deal with one spy," Sawyer was saying. "I know that everyone in this room is trustworthy: you've all passed an extensive background check, and I know everything about you. Including who narrowly avoided a shoplifting charge, Mr. Velez."

As every head swiveled to look at Sebast, the Puerto Rican boy yelped, "_¡Dios!_ I was seven! I tried on a jacket while we were shopping and forgot to take it off! _Mi madre_ freaked out when we got home and marched me back to the store and had them call the cops and everything! I didn't even do it on purpose! That made me so scared of anybody in a uniform, the next time the UPS guy came to our house I cried because I thought he was gonna take me to jail for reading my cousin's diary!"

That was the little bit of levity everyone needed, and they chuckled softly. "Bet you never even thought of stealing anything ever again, huh?" Sawyer laughed.

"Yeah, and now I get paranoid every time I see a cop car," Sebast replied, calming down a little. "How the hell did you even get that? I thought juvenile records were sealed?"

"Not while you're still a juvenile," Maggie said. "The rest of you have nothing worse than a few speeding tickets and a couple of drunk and disorderly citations. Well, except Lois, our friendly local burglar…"

"It was for a story, Mags," Lois shot back, "and I got hell for _weeks_ because _you_ came to arrest my ass. Handcuffs and all."

"Taught you a lesson, didn't it?" the policewoman replied.

"Yeah: _don't get caught_," Lois spat, and the whole room laughed again.

Maggie groaned, rolling her eyes theatrically. "_Why_ am I friends with reporters? Good God, to you they're not laws, they're _suggestions_."

"Damn right," Tobie piped up, and had the grace to look embarrassed when her wife cut her a sharp look.

"Nice going, Raines," Perry White growled. "Antagonize the cop – who happens to be your _wife_. Typical _Star_ grace and tact."

"Anyway," Sawyer cut in before the two editors could start in on each other. "The point is, those of us in this room are the only ones we know we can trust. So the plans we make now are not to be shared with _anyone_ else. Well, except Loueen; Perry, you'll have to clue her in. And Lana and her assistant, Kay; Richard, you get to update them."

Someone's cell phone went off; it was Mr. Kent's, and he quickly answered it, turning away from the rest of the group to take the call. Nick paid little attention to that, the policewoman's next words taking up all of his attention. "Now, considering what we know Luthor's capable of, I want all of you to stay on the alert. In fact, I'm considering that the children and those of you who can feasibly do so move into a central location where we can keep you under police protection until…"

Mr. Kent's voice cut through the room; he had answered the call quietly, but now his voice was loud and furious. "Keep your hands off my daughter, Luthor!" he snarled into his phone. That got everyone's attention immediately, and they all turned toward him with expressions of horror. All but Nick; he didn't know anyone here, had no idea how uncharacteristic that tone was, so he looked to the others. That was why he alone saw Lois blanch, gripping the arm of her chair. She looked as horrified as anyone else, but unlike them, she didn't seem at all surprised.

Half-rising out of his chair, Clark bellowed, "Don't! You bastard, don't you dare touch her!"

…

Kala had had a bad feeling about this from the moment the two thugs showed up in the cafeteria. Schecter saw them first, and frowned, which put Kala on the alert. When they walked up and said gruffly, "Boss wants to see her," her heart sank.

Schecter's worried expression didn't bode well, either. "Did he say why?"

The two goons just shrugged, so Kala gave him a brittle smile. "All villains like to gloat," she said sweetly, forcing herself to rise with her usual grace. "I suppose I'd better go see him, then. Lead on."

Her casual demeanor confused the two security guys, and they didn't say much as they led her to a part of the facility she'd never seen before. Up a flight of stairs, across several corridors, and then up another flight of stairs. Fortunately the two thugs didn't say anything or try to touch Kala – she was keyed up, wary, ready to react in an instant. With her powers, she figured she could easily handle two apparently unarmed men, and at any rate they decided not to get a little revenge.

Finally, they brought her into a room with one wall made up entirely of flat-panel monitors. Several workstations had microphones and headsets and banks of switches. Luthor was sitting at one of the desks, his hands folded as a pointed reminder of the kryptonite ring he wore. "Good morning, Kala," he said, an avid gleam in his eyes.

"Hi," the girl responded, making herself sound as bored and blasé as possible. "You know, nobody's ever studied the long-term effects of kryptonite radiation in humans. What are you gonna do when that thing gives you cancer? Get a robot hand built? It'll bring you closer to your life's ambition of becoming Dr. Claw."

Luthor only smiled. "Have a seat."

"And if I won't?" was Kala's instantaneous response, lifting her chin to look down on him haughtily. A part of her wanted to scream and run. She knew full well that this man wanted nothing more than to discredit and destroy her father; killing the rest of her family would only be a bonus.

At her question, he only chuckled and looked toward the two security men who were standing behind Kala. The girl heard the thwack of something heavy meeting flesh, probably a nightstick slapped against a palm. She didn't turn around, instead sitting down with every ounce of grace her grandmothers had been able to teach her, and fixed Luthor with a frosty glare. "Yes?"

"I just need you to sit there for a moment," Luthor said calmly, taking out a phone handset. He dialed a number and held it to his ear. Kala watched, puzzled, until she heard the voice that answered._ Daddy._

Her first thought was to snatch the phone away, but a heavy hand gripped her shoulder. The impulse died as Luthor said, "Hello, Mr. Kent. I hope I didn't interrupt your meeting. There's someone here who would like to speak to you." Then he held the phone toward Kala.

She clenched her teeth, glaring hatefully. Of course Luthor was only doing this to frighten her father; the bastard liked jerking his chain. She wouldn't give Luthor the satisfaction of pleading for Daddy to come get her. That wouldn't help her father's state of mind at all.

Luthor's eyebrows rose at her defiant expression, and he said flatly, "Speak. You can talk, or you can scream." The two thugs were standing right behind her, and Kala heard their breath quicken, their pulses accelerate, as they anticipated the chance to hurt her.

Fine. He could make her speak, but she wouldn't follow his script. "Don't come for me, Daddy," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but her pitch began to rise in spite of her best efforts. "It's a trap and we both know it. I'm fine here, don't come after me, don't let him…"

Luthor made an abrupt gesture, and one of the security men grabbed her head, covering her mouth with his hand. She struggled, trying to bite him, but both of them were pinning her down in the chair, the nightstick slipped under her chin and pressed back against her throat. They would choke her if she kept fighting.

Kala went limp, trying to catch her breath. Luthor was talking, and she needed to know what he was saying. "…she's obviously quite well, for now, and as long as she continues to cooperate…"

Her father's voice was perfectly clear to Kala's sensitive hearing as he snarled, "Keep your hands off my daughter, Luthor!"

Luthor chuckled wickedly. "It's a little late for that."

Clark bellowed, "Don't! You bastard, don't you dare touch her!" Kala wanted so badly to let her father know that she was okay, to tell him that Luthor probably wouldn't harm her for fear of Zod's retaliation, that she could protect herself with her own powers. But the two goons were holding her down in the chair, and if she fought them too hard the sounds of the struggle would only scare her father worse.

"Don't be so hasty," Luthor all but purred. "I have no intention of harming Kala – _yet_. If she'll do what I've asked of her, I'll let her go."

"You lie." The rage in her father's voice began to frighten Kala. "You've always lied, Luthor."

"Not always," he said lightly. "After all, I kept my end of the deal."

Silence on the other end of the phone line. Kala's exquisite hearing picked up Aunt Maggie's voice, low and urgent, asking Clark for the phone, telling him there was no sense in listening to this.

"Don't know what I'm talking about?" Luthor taunted. "Ask your wife."

"No," Clark said thickly.

"And while you're at it," Luthor continued, "remind her that I kept our bargain even when she broke it." He looked directly into Kala's eyes as he spoke, and winked conspiratorially at her.

Kala's world seemed to be shattering around her. It couldn't be… No matter how much they fought, Mom would never let Luthor take her. A traitorous voice in the back of her mind asked, _Not even to protect Jase?_ It wasn't as if she didn't know who Mom's favorite was…

"I will end this." And it was _that_ voice, the timbre and cadence he used only at the Fortress. Kala shuddered to hear it, never having heard such anger and determination from her father.

"Bring it on, then," Luthor said, his eyes fever bright. "Just remember the deal: don't involve anyone else. Just you and the family, no cops, no capes, or I'll…"

"No," Clark said forcefully. "I don't make deals with the likes of you, Luthor. _Ever._ I will do whatever it takes to find you and bring my daughter home. _Whatever_ it takes. This time is the last."

Through tear-blurred eyes, Kala saw a look of surprise pass over Luthor's features, tinged perhaps with fear. "Then the consequences are on your head," he said, and disconnected the call. Smiling at Kala, Luthor commented, "Seems like _someone_ is very much Daddy's little girl."

"He'll kill you," Kala said bluntly, "but only if I don't do it first. You sonofabitch, how dare you…" She'd forgotten the nightstick against her throat, and the man standing behind her cut off her air before she could finish the sentence.

…

Silence reigned in the Lane-Kents' penthouse, silence pregnant with fury as soft gray clouds were pregnant with thunder. Maggie had stopped trying to talk sense to him. Her ice blue eyes were fixed on him, just like everyone else in the room. Only Lois didn't meet his furious gaze; she had closed her eyes when she could tell the revelation was near, feeling the blood drain from her face. _It's done. Luthor told him. He knows_. In spite of the cold horror that blanketed her, she felt a sickening sense of relief. All those years of forcing it to the back of her mind, of looking over everyone's shoulder, were finished. For better or worse, her last secret was out.

The relief, however, didn't quite prepare her for the reality that had been a decade coming. Clark took a deep, deep breath, and let it out in one rising rush of fury. "_You made a __**deal**__ with_ _**Luthor**_?!"

Just the sheer anger in his voice made her flinch. She should have known it would be this bad, had known that there was no way he would have taken this well. Why couldn't he have been home this morning? She was going to tell him, had planned to, but he hadn't been home first thing. She had tried and Fate had conspired against her again. Even now, she could remember how cold it had been in the station, the howl of the trains distant as Luthor spread his poison.

_He had been watching her eyes. "So. Mutually assured destruction, that's what this is. If you call him, I'll go down – but not without ruining you. And that's no fun for anyone, now is it?" Lex paused for only the briefest second, just long enough to return her feral smile. "This is what I want: leave me alone. Don't try to find me; don't help the police track me down. Stay out of my life and out of my way completely. And don't set your caped hubby on my trail, either. If anything happens to me, your secret's out."_

_She had nodded gravely, not quite trusting herself to speak. Lex continued, "In return, I'll leave your little family alone. I'll pull back the watchers I have following the Kents, the Whites, the Troupes, and even the Langs and the Hubbards. You can stop looking over your shoulder, wondering when I'll appear. That's no way to have your twins grow up, now, is it? Besides, I have other interests now, and I'm going to be far too busy to pursue vengeance. So we have a ceasefire, essentially. Will you agree to that, Ms. Lane?"_

_A deal with the Devil is never long-term and always ends in hell_. At first, Lois couldn't reply, looking up at Clark with a shattered expression. In all their years together, she'd never seen that look of wrath and abhorrence turned on her. "You don't understand. It was so sudden. I didn't have any choice," she whispered brokenly.

"There's _always_ a choice," Clark retorted, taking a step toward his wife.

Maggie saw the situation going bad in a hurry. The pain and anger in Clark's eyes made it perfectly clear that he was not in his right mind at the moment, and while the policewoman had never before been able to picture Clark raising his voice to Lois, at the moment he seemed quite capable of throttling her. As for Lois, she seemed to have been diminished. On a normal basis, she gave the impression of being much taller than she actually was, but right now she looked frail and wilted.

Trying to restrain Clark, Maggie grabbed his arm. To her shock she felt taut and trembling muscle just under his shirt; Clark apparently spent more time at the gym than she thought. Given that he was significantly taller and heavier than she was, there was no way she'd be able to stop him if he decided to give vent to the rage she could feel practically vibrating under his skin.

Lois couldn't help laughing bitterly. "Yeah, you're right. There's always a choice – if you're given the time to _think_ about it."

"You've had _how_ long to at least _tell_ me?" Clark thundered. The rest of the family was still in shock, watching this play out with pained expressions. No one said a word; what could anyone say? If Lois could make a deal with Luthor, and Clark could be _this_ angry at his own wife, then what else could go wrong? Everyone lived with a certain set of assumptions about the world, and two of them had just been violently overturned.

"Okay, cool it," Maggie said in her authoritarian voice, sliding her hand down to Clark's wrist to apply a joint lock if necessary. She could hardly believe that such an innately gentle man was giving off all the signs of imminent wrathful destruction, but her training overrode her consternation.

The only problem was, Clark didn't even notice her, and the attempt to restrain him failed utterly. Maggie tried to catch Richard's eye, or maybe Ron's, but they were both locked into a horrified daze.

"Dammit, Clark, I _couldn't_! If I'd told you, he'd have come after us again. We hadn't completely recovered from the last time he struck out at us and we weren't ready for another fight," Lois cried out in frustration. "He said he'd leave us alone if we didn't go after him!"

"And now he has my daughter," Clark shot back. "I trusted you! I never _imagined_ you could lie about something_ this_ big, not again, not after what we went through ten years ago!"

Jason had somehow crossed the room, and now he interposed himself between his parents. "Dad," he said sharply, his expression urgently trying to communicate something to Clark.

Both parents ignored him, their gazes locked on each other, acting as if they were alone in the room. Lois seemed to rally at Clark's last words, the fire returning to her eyes. "After what we went through ten years ago? Yeah, and who dropped _that_ on our doorstep? It certainly wasn't me! I don't remember being the one that waved the red flag under his nose."

"You swore no more secrets. And you lied to me anyway." Apparently Jason and Kala didn't just get their stubbornness from Lois. Clark was mulishly fixated on that fact, his voice shaking with betrayal.

Lois' jaw tightened at that, her frustration growing strong every minute. She couldn't make him listen, couldn't make him understand. How could she have been stupid enough to think Luthor would keep his bargain when the bait had been laid in front of her? "I never lied," Lois denied sharply. "I just didn't tell you – I knew exactly what you'd do if I did! I did it to _protect_ all of us!"

"Yeah, we see how well _that_ worked out," Clark fired back. Maggie got the impression that a whole universe of unspoken things lurked beneath this argument, and she didn't want to examine them too closely yet.

Lois bristled at that, guilt burning away for the moment in sheer anger. Her eyes met his directly. "It bought us ten years! Ten years for the twins to grow up…"

"_Ten years?!_" The words seemed to explode out of Clark, and even Maggie flinched. "You've been hiding this for a _decade_? Our whole marriage?"

Something Lois crumbled at that, seeing the look in his eyes. Luthor had scored the direct hit he always wanted: Kal-El now saw her as the enemy. Her love for her family, her need to protect her children, had become the weapon to be used against her. "I did what I had to do; they were only babies when this started" Lois whispered, tears glimmering in her eyes even as she refused to drop her eyes. "I did what I had to do to keep us safe."

"_We're not __**safe**__!_" Clark's voice had risen with each exchange, and at that point he sounded absolutely maddened by pain. "Kala's gone, Luthor's trying to kill us all, how dare you say you betrayed me to keep us safe?!"

Lois clenched her jaw, the fire burning hot again. "We were safe for ten years! What he's doing now, he would've done when the twins were _six_! _I had __**no choice**_!"

"_You could have __**told me**__!_" Clark bellowed back.

From the foyer came a new voice, demanding, "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Clark and Lois both stopped and turned toward the hall with astonished expressions. So did everyone else in the room. In a day full of shocks, perhaps the most unexpected was hearing _Lana_ swear.

The redhead stalked into the room, head held high, staring down Clark. Kay trailed behind her, looking stunned. "Well?" Lana asked again. "Someone please explain this."

"Luthor called Clark," Maggie began. "And told him about a deal Lois supposedly made with him ten years ago."

Lana crossed her arms and looked at Clark. Almost no one had seen her furious, but today was apparently full of firsts. "So of course you turned on Lois," she said. "Clark, you just did _exactly_ what he wanted you to do."

* * *


	29. In The Air Tonight

**I'm posting this right off the final polish. *crosses fingers* I really hope this turns out as good as we wanted, because God knows we put the work into it. *takes a deep breath and presses bravely onward* Off to Orlando and Lush first thing tomorrow morning and then off to Asheville, NC in two weeks. And not a moment too soon.**

**For those that are wondering if I'm going to be replacing the links in my profile, I have every intention of doing so. There just hasn't been the time at the moment. Give me just a bit longer. :D And I should have another fanmix coming for this Act shortly. Keep your eyes open!**

* * *

"What the _hell_ is going on here?"

It seemed that Lana had gotten there just in time. Of all the things she'd expected to walk into, the very last was an argument between Lois and Clark. Not only that, but one she could hear all the way outside the apartment, and in her consternation she'd sworn, however mildly. Behind her she heard Kay draw in an amazed breath; her assistant had heard her mutter 'darn' under her breath several times, but that was all.

And the pair of them turned at the sound of her voice in the suddenly silent room, Lois and Clark looking like their own twins caught in the midst of some misbehavior. Their guilty expressions weren't a _perfect_ match for Jason and Kala, though. Lana had never seen the twins look quite so pained and heart-sore as their parents did at the moment.

She felt for them, loved them both so much, but couldn't help feeling furious. In the midst of all that was happening – Kala missing, Luthor trying to kill anyone close to the family – these two were _screaming_ at each other? Not to mention that it was happening in front of everyone and from the snatches Lana could hear in the foyer, they were perilously close to letting the secret slip.

Storming into the crowded room, Lana's sea-green eyes wrathfully found and bored into Clark's azure ones as she came forward to face him, then that steely gaze lit on Lois. "Well? Someone please explain this." Neither could answer, both of them dropping their eyes with shamefaced embarrassment. Everyone else looked sheepish, too, which wasn't much of a surprise, considering they'd just been forced to witness a very public airing of private grievances. It didn't help that Lois and Clark had always controlled any of their personal problems; most of the family were under the impression that the two of them had never even had a real fight. A perception that now had changed drastically.

In the end, it was Maggie that finally spoke up. The cop looked as disillusioned as Lana had ever seen her, arms crossed over her chest. She'd been trying to hold Clark back before Lana had arrived, unsuccessfully of course, and her voice was full of bewildered sorrow. "Luthor called Clark. And told him about a deal Lois supposedly made with him ten years ago."

Armed with that information, everything clicked into place. Luthor's plans yesterday had failed; his pet assassin had been slain by a _fashion designer_, of all things, and everyone he wanted dead was still alive and now even more determined. What else could he do when faced with the current situation? The answer was obvious. Ten years ago, Luthor had called Lois and let her hear the twins crying for her, which brought her desperately rushing onto his yacht and into a trap. Now he'd done the same thing, only choosing Clark for his target this time, robbing him of caution and common sense with a single phone call.

A small part of her admired that brilliant piece of manipulation, but the rest of Lana was consumed with outrage. Clark was a deeply passionate man, devoted to those things he considered sacred: his mission and his family. To turn him against his own wife was like tricking him into cutting off his own arm; he was hemorrhaging anger and betrayal right now. Someone had to stop him, quickly, and no one else had even the slightest clue how to do that. Even the usual quarter to turn to when Clark was in a lather was out of commission this time. Lois, who was normally feisty and combative enough for any three people, seemed merely cornered, wounded, and lashing out in self defense. And it hurt Lana's heart to see it.

So of course it fell to his oldest friend. Lana took a deep breath to brace herself, crossing her arms in exasperation. It was only made a tad awkward by the bulkiness of the bandages around her hand. She met Clark's eyes steadily, knowing what she was about to say was the hardest blow she had ever delivered to him, but knowing it had to be said. "So of course you turned on Lois. Clark, you just did _exactly_ what he wanted you to do."

It had the desired effect, clearly. Blue eyes wide, Clark looked utterly pole-axed by the blunt statement. But the sheer shock of her scolding wasn't enough to keep him silent for long. No one in the room missed the way he snapped out, "What are you doing out of the hospital?"

Lana only stared him down coolly, her disappointment in him obvious in every feature of her face. How badly Luthor must have rattled his cage to have him striking out like this. But someone had to talk sense to him and the others were just too stunned. Even Jason stood back, cowed. So it fell to her. "Saving you from making a mistake just when you _really_ don't need to," was her chilly response. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Richard leaning back in his seat, looking both impressed and relieved.

"You should've stayed where you were safe," Clark shot back, his expression thunderous.

Lana looked around the room slowly, at the whole assembled extended family. She gave all of them a reassuring smile, taking strength from every single face in the crowd. "Seems fairly safe right here, just like it always has," she replied quietly.

That stymied him for a moment, and Lana looked at Lois, who paused before looking up at her. Those hazel eyes looked almost bruised with exhaustion and heartache. And the redhead didn't miss the way everyone else was looking warily at her, all of them stunned by the revelation that Lois had made a deal with the enemy. As close as some of the others in the room were to the reporter, most didn't have the insight into Lois that Lana did. Time to put that in perspective as well. "Lois, you are not a fool," Lana stated. "I'm not going to say that either of you are wrong. But I know that whatever deal you made, you must have had a _very_ good reason for doing so."

Clark scoffed and Lana could see the way Lois flinched from the sound. In that moment, Lana knew that nothing anyone said to her could make the other woman feel any guiltier than she already did. In spite of that, the reporter only struggled for a moment before she got her facade firmly in place, lifting her chin defiantly. "You know what, it was all I could do when it happened. Everyone can believe what they want; I was protecting the kids – and _him_. Luthor didn't give me the time to make a choice – it was either agree to leave him alone, or go right back into war. And the twins were _six_."

"Sounds sensible to me," Lana said, and when Clark turned wounded eyes on her, she lifted her left hand, letting him see the bandage. "As of yesterday, I have a little experience with what a mother will do to protect her children."

The silence in the room took on another tone, as everyone remembered that Lana had killed her assailant. She remembered, too, the easy weight of the chef's knife in her hand, the sound it made whickering through the air, how easily the woman's flesh parted before it. Those memories were all too clear for Lana, even the _thunk_ as the blade struck bone and skidded off a vertebra, the blood so hot as it sprayed her face and plastered her blouse to her body. Only one thought had been in her mind at the time, _you will not touch my daughter_, and she hadn't felt the woman's knife as it pierced her hand, hadn't faltered as she swept her own blade through its fatal arc.

Clark seemed to be out of objections for the moment, and Lana decided to move this discussion out of earshot of those who didn't know the truth of his identity. "Maggie, I'm sure you still have a lot you need to discuss," Lana said calmly. "But Lois, Clark, Richard, and I need to talk for a moment, just among ourselves."

The policewoman looked relieved, the status quo seeming to have finally started to return. "Go on, you four need to talk about this. You're not missing much else, at the moment. We'll update you when you get back."

…

The moment the four parents were ensconced in the master bedroom – awkward, but Loueen and the kids were upstairs in the study – Lois turned to her husband with desperation in her eyes. "He knows who you are," she stressed emphatically. "Kal-El, Luthor would have published your identity for the world to read if I hadn't agreed to leave him alone. What was I supposed to do, after all he'd done to us the month before?"

Not even her use of his Kryptonian name seemed to affect him. "That's not the point," Clark shot back. "You never even told me!"

"I've been trying to tell you since New Year's!" Lois fought the rat of hopelessness that gnawed at her guts. She knew she had to keep her voice down, but she wanted to shout that into his face. Make him hear, make him understand the position Luthor had put her in. "Hell, I was going to tell you what was happening after the party, but you took off!"

"Since New Year's?" Clark was just as angry. "How am I supposed to believe that? Or anything else you say, for that matter. Why wait _this_ long? You've lied for ten years!"

Lois' eyes were starting to shine from frustrated tears. She wasn't getting through to him. Just when she was sure she'd lose her temper, help came unexpectedly from Richard. "Clark, shut up." The taller man wheeled to stare at him incredulously. The tone was more weary than angry, but Richard rarely spoke so bluntly to Clark. "She didn't exactly _lie_, she kept a secret, and there's a big damn difference between the two. Not only that, but you should've known Lois would do anything she could to protect you and those kids. When hasn't she? She kept a bigger secret for six years, lied to everyone in her life – including me – about the kids when it would've been the easiest thing in the world to publish 'Superman: Deadbeat Dad'. Hell, there could've been a book deal in that."

"It doesn't matter," Lana cut in, before Clark could start up again. "Yes, Lois should have told someone. I can see why she wouldn't tell you, but she could have told me…"

Lois was already shaking her head. "Lana, I barely knew you that well back then. There was no way I was going to chance the possibility that he could know. Not after everything we had already gone through. _No one_ could know. This was in January, _right_ after the last time the kids were kidnapped; our engagement notice had just gone into the paper. That's where Luthor got the photo to compare Clark and Superman."

"It still doesn't matter." Lana kept her tone cool and calm now; the time for shocking Clark back to his senses was past. He'd had enough shocks for one day. "We can sit here and argue over what Lois should have done, or we can deal with the choice she made. Personally, I prefer the option that gets us closer to finding our daughter."

Clark sighed heavily. "I wouldn't have expected _you_ to come out on her side."

"I'm not on her side," Lana patiently corrected. "I'm on Kala's side. Which is where both of you should be. Now come on. If you really must, we can pick up the blame game again once Kala is home safe."

"Fine," Clark said, but the dark look he shot toward Lois let everyone know that this wasn't over. Lois, for her own part, could only sigh resignedly and turn away.

…

The man standing behind Kala wasn't really trying to kill her, just shut her up and scare the hell out of her. Unfortunately, she was so angry she didn't care about anything but getting her hands on Luthor. Kala summoned every ounce of the strength she'd inherited from her father and wrenched the nightstick away from her throat, rising from her chair so fast that to human eyes she was merely a blur.

A blur who swiftly punched the man who'd been choking her, landing a solid blow to his midsection. While he gasped for breath, never having seen the sucker punch, she was already turning to deal with his partner. Her head was full of a high, buzzing rage, and she lashed out wildly. Fortunately for Luthor's thugs, Kala didn't have her father's strength, but they simply couldn't block any of her blows, and they were both being beaten.

At least they were losing until Luthor uncapped his kryptonite ring. Kala's ears began to ring, a horrible shrilling that seemed to threaten imminent deafness, and at the same time her whole body seemed to turn into one massive muscle cramp. She collapsed, falling backward into the chair, covering her ears with an agonized whimper. It had been ten years since she was last exposed to kryptonite, and she was completely unprepared for its effects in spite of Zod's warning.

Gasping, trying not to cry, Kala fought to master the debilitating pain and weakness. The two thugs were getting ready to start in on her again, and Luthor just smiled evilly. "Threatening me is not a good idea, little girl," he warned.

That was when the door burst open. "Out," a familiar voice snapped, and the two security guys ran for it. Luthor looked up, and the woman said coolly, "I think she's seen the error of her ways, Lex. We don't want to damage her."

With that, he flipped the cover back onto the ring, leaning back with a wary eye on Kala. She took a deep breath, the hellish ringing in her ears fading at last, and tried to look up at her rescuer…

…only to gasp again, in shock. "_Mrs. Davenport?!_" she yelped.

"Ms. Graves, actually," the blonde replied with frosty amusement. "Mercedes Graves."

It took only an instant for Kala to realize that if Mrs. Davenport worked for Luthor, then her daughter must also be one of the bad guys. Her temper instantly red-lined. "I _knew_ that little bitch was trouble!" she snarled. "Where the hell is she?"

"In prison," the older woman informed her. "She failed to maintain her cover."

"My brother is a freakin' idiot," Kala muttered. "I knew she was rotten, I _knew_ it, but nobody listens to the smart twin."

"He's a boy. Show them breasts and they lose all capacity for coherent thought." Ms. Graves looked even more amused at that, while Lex chuckled quietly. The vibe between the two of them was not something Kala wanted to contemplate. Strolling over to Luthor's side of the desk, the older woman added in speculative tones, "Consider yourself lucky that he never showed untoward interest in _you_, Kala dear. You _are_ the only two of your kind in the world."

That accusation rendered Kala speechless, sputtering in fury. It was bad enough that Grandpa Giant Floating Head had commented that the twins shouldn't further thin the blood of the House of El by intermingling with humans, but he just meant for them to stay celibate. No one had ever implied that they … _ewww_. Jason was her _brother_. That was weird, wrong, and _gross_. "You are _sick_, lady," Kala finally managed to spit.

Ms. Graves just shared a secretive look and a chuckle with Luthor. "Well, what are we accomplishing here?" the blonde asked her boss.

"Oh, just stirring up the hornet's nest a little, Mercy," he replied, grinning wolfishly. "We've lost surveillance on the Kents' apartment, so I thought I'd call Kal-El and inform him of his wife's deal with me."

At those words, Kala felt herself flush with rage again. Only the memory of the kryptonite ring kept her from jumping across the desk. "You liar," she hissed.

"Oh, it's no lie." Luthor was taking a perverse pleasure in infuriating Kala. "Your mother made a bargain with me. Care to guess what it was?"

Kala's mind raced. Luthor had to have a reason for leading her on. _Jason's girlfriend was the spy. If they were after one of us, the easy one to get would be Jason. So could it be … no, Mom would never trade me for Jason. Would she?_

All of a sudden, she simply didn't want to know. Kala gathered all of her self-control to sit up straight and glare at Luthor. "No," she said icily. "There's no way I can trust anything you tell me anyway, so you might as well save your breath."

Mercy intervened before Luthor could reply. "Regardless, Lex, we still have the business at hand to consider. You've had a night to consider our offer, Kala. Are you going to help us?"

"And what if I won't?" the girl retorted. "Because the whole choking incident just now, and the kryptonite ring, aren't inspiring me to cooperate."

"Then you're an expensive, dangerous liability," the blonde told her. "But one that our physiologists would be fascinated to study posthumously."

The not-so-veiled threat sent a splinter of ice into Kala's heart. "That doesn't leave me much choice, does it?" Mercy only smiled, waiting. "Fine. You _promise_ you'll let me go if I help you?"

"Of course," Luthor said, and Mercy echoed him.

"All right," Kala said after what she hoped was a convincing pause. She was already thinking of several ways to sabotage their plans. Hopefully at least one would work … but no matter what happened, she wasn't going to give Luthor what he wanted. _Never. _"Let's do this."

…

In spite of the earlier shakeup, Maggie had managed to get the group back on topic, neatly distracting them from their shock and dismay. "As I was saying, everyone in this room is at risk. I'd like to minimize Luthor's opportunities as much as possible." While she talked about security and being aware of one's surroundings, Perry caught Kay's eye. The brunette sidled over to him, Laurel flanking her.

Both young women looked up at Perry intently, and he read a challenge in their eyes. They were of the generation that had little personal experience with a glass ceiling. The trail to equality in the workplace had been blazed ahead of them, and at the _Daily Planet_, it was not only blazed but paved, with handrails at the steep bits – they only had to look at the assistant editor's office to know it. _Work your ass off if you want to get ahead, _that was how Perry had run things for the past thirty years, and the same rule had applied to everyone in the office, regardless of race, sex, religion, or anything else. Perry had always helped out people who were determined to get ahead, though help often arrived in the form of challenges to overcome.

He sized them up now, already knowing what was on their minds before either ever spoke. The same situation was haunting them all, though they'd kept it close to their vests in light of what had happened with Kala. Laurel was the first to speak, muttering under her breath. "Have you told Lois about what we found?"

Perry had considered it on coming into the apartment, but not after witnessing the scene between Clark and Lois. He'd known the kids for years, had watched them grow into the people they were now, and it pained him to see that the divide he had suspected truly was a reality. Now wasn't the time. Besides, this wasn't the first time he'd fought this kind of battle and surely wouldn't be the last. "Haven't had a chance. And I'm not _gonna_ tell her, either. She's got too much on her mind already without worrying about this."

Both women exchanged a look. His assistant's assistant wasn't so good at hiding the level at which she was perturbed, but Kay only nodded at him slowly. Her gray eyes were confident and Perry was fairly sure that the two of them were on the same level. The girl had been with Lana for a long time; she likely felt the need to protect his niece-in-law as much as he wanted to shield both Clark and Lois at a time like this. "Perry's right, Laurel. They have enough on their plate. We can handle it."

The younger woman frowned a little; Ron and Lucy were sitting not so far away and it clearly made her nervous to try to keep from being overheard. Her voice was little more than a whisper when she spoke. "The stock price spiked again today. Up another three points."

Perry didn't even bat an eyelash; if anything, the older man looked more determined. "I don't know what someone thinks they're up to; I've got my broker holding our shares no matter how high it goes."

"Me, too," Kay chimed in. "We've actually bought more shares – you know Lana's got the company's best interests in mind. Whatever they're trying to do, it's not going to happen."

Perry's eyes were distant, so Laurel said in a low voice, "What could be causing a run on DP stock?"

"Luthor," the editor in chief told her without pretense. "This is something to do with Luthor, you mark my words. He's trying to do this to rattle Lois' cage just a little harder. We all just heard that call. It shouldn't be a surprise that he'd try something like this, trying to throw more at her than she can cope with. I'm not going to let the bastard do it. Whatever he's planning, it's not going to work. If he tries to take the paper, we'll give him a fight he'll never forget." And from the look on Perry White's face, neither woman doubted he'd do exactly as he said.

…

When there was nothing more to say, none of the four trusting themselves to discuss things any further at the moment, Lana and Richard started for the door. Not even glancing in Lois' direction, Clark turned to follow them. As the others headed out to face the music, she hung back – it wasn't enough to get yelled at by Kal-El and lectured by Lana, Lois also had to see all of her friends' expressions now that they knew the truth as well. As brave as she could be, the crushing feeling of absolute failure battered at her foundations. It was one thing to lose face in front of her husband, or even to Lana and Richard as well, but to be caught out like this and have no way to explain yourself other than to cry "I had to!" ate at her. That she was only human meant nothing in that moment. They expected more of her and she expected more of herself. It was humbling to realize that she had failed on both fronts.

Just as she was about to step out of the hallway, her phone rang. The number was blocked, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up at the possibility that Luthor might have her in mind next. She almost didn't answer it … but honestly, how much worse could things get at this point? Lois stepped back into the master bedroom and flipped open the phone.

Steeling herself against the insidious voice she knew would be on the other end of the line, she answered with a brusque, "Yes?"

Silence hummed on the open line for a moment, and then a woman's voice spoke up, sounding hushed and hesitant. "Lois Lane?"

Lois scowled; why did that voice make her think of camera phones and an old blue Buick and helicopter blades? She couldn't quite place it on just two words, though. "This is she."

Another pause, and Lois had the impression that her caller was even jumpier than she was. "You probably don't remember me…"

But that was enough. The whirr of the helicopter blades as Lex had reveled in his capture of her, a young woman with dark hair and a retro dress with a Pomeranian in her purse. The young woman who had risked Lex's wrath to try to save the twins from the worst of Luthor's machinations. "Katherine Kowalski," and she smiled in spite of the day's events. At least that much of her deal with the devil had come out well; Kitty was still alive.

The voice on the phone seemed to tense at the name. "I don't go by that name anymore. And I never contacted anybody who knew me from … well, you know … until now. I really shouldn't have now, but I just couldn't turn a blind eye to this. But this will be the last you ever hear from me, okay? No matter what happens after this, Lois, I'm done."

"You're right, you shouldn't have, but I'm so grateful you did," Lois said with a sigh. Her mind awhirl, she had unknowingly begun to pace, her hand reaching up to fidget with the locket around her neck. She instinctively knew that this phone call would mean a great deal in gaining enough ground to find Kala, but she couldn't help but worry about the fate of her savior. "And once you hang up, _run_. You said you saw the papers; they're not running everything that's happened. We got the bugs he placed out of the apartment and the police have been monitoring our phones to be sure they're not tapped, but you know better than anyone else that you never know with him. The risk is just too high."

A shaky laugh. "Don't I know it. I'm only calling because I saw the news – your friend, the redhead, almost got killed, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are rumors that they have one of your twins. Kala. That was the worst, knowing the way he treated them the last time. I tried to block it out, but I just couldn't stop seeing their little faces. He's coming after you again and you need to know what you're up against. Or at least what I can tell you that he had planned before."

Lois had to swallow, her heart contracting painfully. It killed her to have Kala's name mentioned; the reminders of what the twins had gone through alone made her heart bleed. As for Lana, she was okay now – better than okay; she seemed to be the only person around with their head screwed on straight at the moment. But having seen her yesterday, soaked in blood with her sea-green eyes asking mutely why this had to happen to her, it was no wonder Lois felt guilt knife through her every time Lana was mentioned.

"He's like that," Katherine continued. "He doesn't care – he'll use anything and anyone to get to you and your man. And now he's got your little girl. He'll throw away a dozen lives to win one battle against … we both know who. He's obsessed, crazy, and dangerous."

Even closing her eyes didn't make the nightmare images of the things Luthor had purred at her with their faces so close together at bay, the gun barrel against her cheek as he had gloated over his prize. The things he had threatened. "I know."

The voice sounded both bitter and wise when she replied. "Not like I know it, thank God. But do you understand that he'll keep coming until you stop him? Every time he backs away and you think it's over, he'll regroup and come after you, all of you, again and again, until you finally put a stop to it for good. And you know what I mean."

An icy shiver rolled down her spine at that. It had been a voice in the back of her mind for years, one she had always hoped she could ignore. _Until I kill him._ Yes, Lois knew. Realistically, she'd always known. And she had known who it would fall to. "I understand that very well."

"Good. In that case, I may be able to help you." Another pause, in which Lois let herself begin to hope, and then Katherine spoke quickly. "He's in Nevada; it's where he's got his research facility all set up for the crystals. I can't tell you exactly _where_, because I don't know…"

That old journalistic excitement rocketed through Lois' veins like lightning. Nevada. Of _course_ Nevada. Way back when it began, Luthor had been buying up huge tracts of desert in California and Nevada. That was right before he triggered an earthquake that would have made his cheaply-acquired land waterfront property – but Superman had intervened and Luthor's scheme had been ruined. Could he possibly still own that land?

"The closest big city is Carson City," Katherine was saying. "The lab is south of there, close to the California border. It's hidden in the mountains – everything's underground. There's some little town not far away, but we never went there. He always made everyone go to Reno or Carson, so the locals wouldn't notice."

"That's fine," Lois said hurriedly, her heart hammering. "That's enough to start a search, and you know I'll have help. Thank you, Katherine, thank you so much…"

"I'm not done," the other woman interrupted. "You need to be careful. _Really_ careful. He's totally obsessed – and he wants _you_ for a trophy. You remember what happened the last time, right? When he…?"

Stomach churning, Lois remembered: the bruised look around Katherine's eyes, the look of a woman driven so far into terror and despair that she was no longer even capable of fighting back; Luthor's small, cold smile as he'd _bragged_ about it, telling Lois he'd said the wrong name at a delicate moment; realizing just what he meant, the way his supposed girlfriend shied away from him in fear, not anger. Oh yes, Lois knew – and even if she hadn't seen those things, she would have known when Luthor kissed her to seal their bargain. Even the memory made her mouth taste foul.

"I know, Katherine." Steel lay under her voice. "I'll be careful, but I'm getting my daughter back no matter what."

There was a relieved sigh on the other line, although the anxiety in her voice was growing again. "Good. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for the two of them. Now I have to go – remember."

"Underground, somewhere south of Carson City. I won't forget. Thank you, Katherine."

"No, thank _you_," the other woman said, and broke the connection.

…

Zod had been awake and listening when Schecter came down to get Kala, but he had made no move yet. He needed to gain the girl's trust, but he also needed to keep his rebellion beneath Luthor's radar for some time yet. It was simply too dangerous to make a stand now, when he was still unsure whether Kala Kal-El would be an ally or enemy. Better to let Luthor have his way, at least a little. He would undoubtedly terrorize the girl – he was one of those men who could not resist gloating in his own sense of power – and in doing so, Luthor would give her yet more reasons to ally with Zod. The Kryptonian smiled; it was so very pleasant to watch your enemies play right into your plans.

The girl, however… He would have to use caution. It was hardly difficult to seem a better choice than Luthor in the immediate moment, but if his long-term plans were to come to fruition, she had to trust him utterly. And that would be no small task. Eyes sliding almost closed, Zod turned his strategist's mind toward securing that goal.

…

Maggie was mid-sentence when she saw Richard, Lana, and Clark emerge from the master suite out of the corner of her eye. Lois hung back – not surprisingly. All things considered, it was likely best. She'd had no time to think about what she'd just learned; there were too many arrangements to make. She was fairly certain the others felt the same way. "I know some of you can't just go into lockdown," Maggie continued as if she hadn't noticed their entrance. "But I would like to see as many of you as possible is a secure central location. I'm not sure yet where that will be…"

That was when Lana spoke up, making everyone's eyes fly to her. "What about Smallville? That should be considered an option."

The policewoman let that idea roll around in her mind for a moment. It wasn't what she'd had in mind, as there really was no police force there to speak of, but it could actually work. Lana continued, her thoughts in the same vein as Maggie's own, "Luthor will find it very hard to get any of his people into town without everyone being warned. With a population that small, anyone new is noticed immediately. I know my folks don't have the space, but Martha Kent does. I'm sure she'd be willing to help us, too, especially to protect the children. Clark?"

It was easy to tell that Clark was still struggling to digest the current shift in events, a storm of emotion simmering under that normally calm demeanor. "I'll call her," he said almost too firmly, his voice still rough. "I'm sure she'll take the kids, and probably anyone else who wants to go." No one missed the fact that he looked at Jason when he spoke.

Jason's response was utter disbelief, gaping at his father while Elise winced. Hurt and the ghost of anger colored both his face and voice when he protested, "Wait. No way, Dad. I'm not staying behind – I'm going, too!" Seeing no change in Clark's expression, he stood up with a scowl and pressed his point. "You can't do this! She's my _sister_. I need to be there!"

So focused was he on Clark that it startled him when Richard spoke up, clearly feeling sympathetic but just as unwilling to budge. "And Luthor will kill you if he gets half a chance. And we can't take that chance, not with the stakes this high. Sorry, son, but no. I've got one kid missing; I'm sure that Luthor would only be too thrilled to have a pair again."

"But…" Jason's crushed look passed from his fathers to Lana, and saw on all three faces the look of absolute parental denial. His only hope at all was Mom and he still wasn't sure how things stood there…

Lois came up the hallway fast and keenly focused. A predatory light glowed in her eyes, her posture straight and forceful. "I've got a lead on Luthor," she stated baldly, daring someone to argue with her, and the misery of moments ago had been subsumed by new purpose.

"Spill," Richard demanded, as Lois' words galvanized the entire room.

Arms crossed tightly against her chest, Lois told them what she knew, only leaving out her source's name and exactly what Kitty's connection with Luthor was. There was no way she was going to betray that after the huge risk that the younger woman had taken.

Maggie listened carefully to everything Lois said before asking, "Are you sure this isn't another setup? Are you sure that we can trust her information?"

"No, I'm not sure we can, but that's because the info is ten years old. Who knows what he could have changed in that time? But it's a lead and a better lead than anything we have at the moment," Lois said succinctly, her façade firmly in place now. "She's not one of his people anymore and she's doing this with a chance of great personal risk on her part. Just trust me on that."

"So why didn't she tell us this before?" Clark asked, his eyes stony.

They all saw Lois start to tense up all the more, but she didn't take the bait this time. "Because it involves the twins and this is the first time Luthor's tried killing my friends instead of just us."

Maggie took that moment to verbally place herself between the two of them. "It's worth checking out the lead, but be careful – it could still be a trap."

"Everything could be a trap." That was Richard, and he gave a fatalistic little shrug. "This is _Luthor_ we're talking about. But it's all we have."

"And it fits," Lois said. "Luthor _did_ buy up a bunch of land in California and Nevada. I was investigating that when he rerouted the missiles, trying to knock California off the map."

Richard was nodding gravely, his mind going a mile a minute. "I remember reading that one. So when are we heading to Nevada?"

Before anyone to comment further, Clark spoke up and put an end to that possibility immediately. "You're not. I'd rather you all stay here, or in Smallville. The fewer of us involved, the better. This is too dangerous."

In the silence that followed, Lois drew herself up a little taller and made herself look him directly in the eye. No matter what bad feelings where between them at the moment, no one in that apartment was surprised at what Lois said next. "Like hell. I'm going and you know better than to tell me I'm not. Don't waste your breath."

"Lois…" By the tone of his voice, Clark was barely reining in his temper, giving Lois a dark look.

She ignored the warning to stare directly into his eyes, as stubbornly determined now as she had been beaten and guilty before. Every inch of her shouted that she wasn't going to back down. Lois could bear his fury of moments ago, much as it hurt her, but she simply could not stand aside and let him go after their daughter alone. Chin up, she interrupted him. "Don't. I'm going, and if you try to leave me behind, I'll follow you. And we both know that it'll be that much easier for him to try to take one of us if we're separated. Do you want to take that chance?"

Richard stirred, but Lana spoke before he could. "So when are you two leaving?" The casual way in which she said it made Richard turned to look at her, his expression puzzled. She seemed to take it as fait accompli that only Lois and Clark would be going, when she'd been talking yesterday about never giving up. He would have protested, but he saw her give him the briefest glance, and the look in her eyes said _play along_. Richard trusted her and always had; if Lana had walked up to him with a blindfold and a chainsaw, he would have known there was a reasonable explanation. That faith in her quieted his objection, and he watched how Clark took her reply.

"Tonight," Clark said with a glance at the other man, still in that clipped tone none were used to hearing. "The sooner, the better." His eyes rested on Lois again, his face still inscrutable, and added in that same controlled tone, "I still need to call Ma, and you need to get in touch with Superman, let him know where we're going."

Her eyes never left his. "Fine. That shouldn't be difficult," she replied with the same cool civility. In the end, it was Clark that looked away first. And Lois forced herself to ignore just how much it relieved her to break away from his gaze.

The moment her back was to him, she felt a hand on her shoulder. For the first time since knowledge of the deal was aired to the rest of the family, Lois found herself facing Maggie. Her heart sunk even further at the rebuke she fully expected from someone who knew her so well. The cop just watched her silently, and Lois knew that she was trying to read her, make sense of what everyone had heard. They had always understood each other so well. Finally Maggie gave a little nod and only said, "I need to talk to you before you leave, Lane."

"So do I." That was Lucy, coming forward through the crowd without hesitation, and before anyone else could do anything, she was in Lois' arms and hugging her big sister hard enough to hurt her ribs. "I know I can't talk you out of this, Lo, and I don't know how you kept from telling us," the blonde whispered. "But please be careful. You're all I have left."

Lois returned the hug fiercely, hating the thought that her sweetheart of a sister might be in danger, hating even more the wounded look she'd seen in Lucy's eyes when the younger woman heard the news about Lois' deal with Luthor. "I will," she murmured, kissing Lucy's temple. "I have a vested interest in coming home. Don't worry, Luce. It's going to be okay." Her eyes flicked up then, over Lucy's shoulder to see Jason watching her with such heartfelt sympathy that she almost broke down again. Instead, she took a deep breath and just gave him a loving look. At the moment, it was the only answer she had for the questions she could see in those blue eyes.

Meanwhile, Clark had slipped away from all of them. He'd seen the sick surprise in his friends' faces, and knew he'd shattered their ideal of him. Sweet, gentle Clark, always kind, always forgiving, the perfect man in an extended family of very good men – and they'd just seen him practically frothing at the mouth in rage.

He went out onto the balcony, out of sight of all those accusing eyes, and leaned against the wall. He had to call Ma, and very soon, but right now what he needed most was just to calm the storm of emotions raging through his soul.

Anger, yes, but anger was something he'd been controlling all his life. Other kids might have been able to kick a fence post or punch a wall when angry, but not Clark; even in his turbulent teens he'd had to cultivate an astounding level of self control. Restraint, always restraint, curbing the impulse to raise his voice, reining in his temper, because once he'd lost control of those it was far too easy to progress to slamming doors, and he always felt so very foolish afterward, when he had to help Pa hang a new door.

His anger – his _rage_ – at Lois had gotten out of hand so quickly because he'd trusted her. Clark had given countless lectures on that topic at work, when nosy reporters told him he should keep a close eye on Lois with the world's most intimidating competition flying around overhead. _"Why should I worry?"_ he'd said with a flippant shrug._ "If I didn't trust Lois, trust her absolutely and completely and in all situations, what would be the point of marrying her? Why, our marriage wouldn't be __**real**__ if I couldn't trust her."_ He'd smiled and sent them all on their way, and it had been his little joke with Lois, since Clark was always his own worst competition.

His faith in Lois had been shaken during this business with Eastlake – and no, Clark hadn't forgotten the too-familiar glances, the shared laughter, merely pushed all that to the back of his mind to deal with more important things. But that disquieting little tremble was nothing compared to the bombshell that had rocked the foundations of his entire world.

Lois had lied to him, kept a secret of _that_ magnitude, for ten years – the entire length of their marriage. Even during the best times, when their life together seemed to be one long swath of shimmering brightness, golden as sunlight, even _then_ she had been hiding this deal with Luthor. It felt like finding an ugly worm eating away at the hidden center of a blossoming rose: horror and disgust and outrage that what seemed so sweet and perfect could conceal such rot.

And perhaps he could have done what Lana asked, putting aside betrayal and wrath for the sake of finding his daughter, if it hadn't been _Luthor_ that Lois had dealt with. Clark's hand rose to his chest, rubbing at a spot nearly to his right shoulder. He had other enemies, and many were the stuff of nightmares, but only Luthor had scarred him, not once but twice. He winced as his fingers felt the rougher skin there beneath his shirt, where the kryptonite-laced bullet wound had healed imperfectly. That wound had a partner – one might say a twin, though not identical – low on his back, where the kryptonite shiv had sliced its way in.

Lois – who had leaped, handcuffed, into the ocean to save him when he'd been shot, though Clark was too angry at her to think of it at the moment – had often kissed those scars when they lay in bed, as if the reverently tender touch of her lips could heal them. Clark had been moved by the gesture, loving her for making something profound out of those all too visible reminders of the hell they'd been through. Now he had to ask himself if perhaps she hadn't been honoring him with those kisses, but trying to assuage her own guilt instead. When she kissed those places so slowly, had she thought of the bargain she'd struck with the man who'd made those scars?

Either one of those could have been fatal, if not for a large dose of luck. Had the bullet fragmented a little more, or the shiv splintered a little further, even the combined efforts of everyone who'd tried to save him would have been in vain. Death by kryptonite was a horrible fate to imagine, and Clark had been far closer to it than he ever wanted to be again, thanks to _one man_, one merely mortal man with no superpowers other than his diabolical genius.

Clark took a shuddering breath, knowing the real reason he'd been so furious at Lois. She had made her bargain with the only human being on the planet who truly terrified him. That Superman should find his heart racing in fear of the coming confrontation seemed unthinkable, but it was all too true.

_Give me strength to get through this,_ he thought, and tried to compose himself to call Ma and ask too much of her, yet again.

* * *


	30. A Wing and A Prayer

**A title change and a hurried posting this week, as we have a mountain of laundry to launder, a room to clean, packing to do, and shopping to finish before we pull out tomorrow night to our beloved North Carolina. Those that have been following me on LJ know just how desperately I've been waiting for this break. *sigh of relief* While we're there, we're going to finish our ****_12 Days of Clois_ entry, which we think will be a crowd-pleasure due to the subject matter and how the subjects react to the matter. *snorfle***

**That said, wish us much inspiration on this lovely trip and we'll see you back here next week for the oneshot! *snugs* Love you guys!**

* * *

Martha saddled up the bay mule, Patsy, and rode over to the Hubbard farm, where Ben was out with the hounds. He often went out when he needed to settle his mind, and last night's news of the attack on Lana, coming atop their worries over Kala, had left him sorely in need of comfort. Martha would have been with him, as riding helped calm her mind just as well, but a mother's intuition told her that she was needed at home. And sure enough, Clark had called, reluctant to ask favors of her. This was a big one – could she and Ben look after all the kids in the family, and probably some of the adults, too?

Once he'd explained why, she was more than willing to help, but these days she had to consult her husband before making such a decision. Martha hated to interrupt Ben's hunt – they almost never caught anything, but then, that wasn't the point – but this was too important to wait. Even at her age, she was confident on the back of the sensible mule, and they cut across the fields in search of him.

She found him on the back of their sorrel mule, Betty, ambling along behind six of the beagles. Ben was deep in thought and didn't see Martha approaching, but the hounds certainly did. The dogs howled and ran frisking around Patsy's hooves, making the mule flick her ears in disgust, but she wouldn't kick them and they wouldn't bite her, so all was well. Once the hounds got over the excitement and went back to sniffing eagerly along the hedgerow, Martha rode over to Ben. He leaned from his saddle to kiss her cheek. "Glad you could join me, after all," he said, his eyes brightening a little.

Such a kind, wonderful man – it wounded her heart to keep secrets from him. But the truth about Clark was one of those things that were simply too huge to comprehend easily. _My son is Superman_, four words that could turn the whole world on its ear. Better to keep that hidden, even if Ben was clearly trustworthy. Martha sighed, and he caught on to her mood instantly. "What's happened, love?"

"I spoke to Clark this morning," she began.

Ben didn't exactly frown, but that small smile disappeared. All of a sudden the crisp winter day seemed to lose some of its loveliness. "More bad news?" he asked grimly.

"Yes," Martha replied, "but some good to leaven it. Lana is up and out of the hospital, bossing Clark around and talking about getting her apartment cleaned as soon as the police release the crime scene. She's not giving up her home just because of what happened."

"That _is_ good to hear," Ben said. "I always thought that girl was braver than she let on. Good for her."

"Unfortunately, what happened to her wasn't just some psycho." Martha took a deep breath before continuing, remembering the raw despair in Clark's voice. "It's Lex Luthor, the man who kidnapped the twins back when they were six."

"The one who created that island off Metropolis," Ben remembered. "Why on earth is he after our Lana?"

_Because losing her would break Clark's heart,_ Martha thought. _Annette and I always hoped they'd wind up together, but they're better as friends – and they're closer now than they ever were in the days when he carried a torch for her._ "She and Lois are very close," she explained instead. "Luthor has Kala, and he's doing anything he can to distract Lois from coming after her."

"That no-good snake has our granddaughter?" Ben's voice rose sharply with anger. "But she ran away…"

"And he kidnapped her." Martha briefly filled him in on as many of the details as she could. He had to know about the spy that had been in their ranks, and just how much force Luthor was willing to use. "From what I understand, Luthor wants Superman. He doesn't want to deal with Lois – I understand she hurt him pretty badly the last time he tried using her for bait – so he took Kala. Superman will come looking for her; she's his godchild. And now Luthor's trying to make him hurry, make him careless, by threatening Lois' friends and family."

"Not Lois herself, because Superman would go after him like nobody's business," Ben mused. Betty sensed her rider's agitation and sidestepped, tossing her head. Ben absently stroked her neck to soothe her. "Besides, he can protect Lois, but not her whole family – and it would ruin her to watch them get hurt."

"Sick and devious," Martha agreed. "Clark and Lois are going after Luthor, with Superman's help. They want everyone else – everyone that can leave the city – to go somewhere safe until they get Kala back and get Luthor behind bars, where he belongs."

"They ought to come out here," Ben said immediately, startling Martha. While she tried to figure out how this had suddenly become so easy, he elaborated, "We've got the space, and it's pretty safe out here. Hard for Luthor to sneak someone onto the farm, you know. And if he does, well, we're not exactly helpless."

"That's a brilliant idea." Martha finally smiled then, warmly. "I'll call Clark and let him know. I don't get good signal out here…"

"That's all right, I need to round up the hounds and head in myself," Ben said. He patted her hip affectionately. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Marveling at how easily that had gone – a sign that fortune was turning in their favor, perhaps – Martha clucked to Patsy and turned back toward the house. Reception was better near the road, for some reason, and she wanted to call Clark quickly. As she took out her phone to check the signal strength, she realized why Ben had been so open to the idea of hosting everyone. Now, at last, _he_ could do something in the search for his granddaughter, something more important than just listening for news and hoping she'd come here on her own.

Men – always happier when they imagined themselves in control of a situation. With the ghost of a smile, Martha called Clark to tell him to send everyone.

…

It took nearly an hour for Maggie to corner Lois at last, but even then refused to talk in the crowded living room. "Let's chase Loueen and the kids out of your study," the blonde said. "I want you sitting down when you hear this."

The reporter had lost track of the times her heart had been in her stomach today. It had been a banner day for bombs to drop. Unable to help it, she exhaled heavily. "Oh, great. What _now_?" Maggie didn't answer, only turning away to lead the way upstairs.

Several sets of eyes met theirs when they opened the door. At least Loueen managed a smile, although Lois knew her well enough to see the tenseness there. "Are you guys finally done?" She and the kids had been playing Uno, the brightly-colored cards scattered across the carpet. "It's a good thing we're not playing for money, or these three little card sharks would own my life savings." Her tone was light and bantering, but her eyes were just a little too wide; the study was fairly well-insulated, but she had to have heard the arguing.

At least it looked like she'd kept the kids from noticing it. Bryan, Michelle, and Kristin all grinned cheerfully at Maggie and Lois. Maggie returned their smiles, a veteran parent, and told them, "Lana's here, you guys."

The response to that was immediate. "YAY!" Kristin yelped, giving her Lo-Lo a token hug before she went racing out of the room calling for her mommy. Bryan and Michelle followed at her heels; the three youngest kids were often nicknamed The Three Musketeers for good reason.

Once they could no longer hear the sound of small feet, Loueen dropped her calm expression and glanced from one to the other with utter seriousness. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough," Maggie told her with a sigh. "I hate to do this, I need to speak to Lois alone for a minute, Loueen. Perry will let you know what's up. We'll be down shortly."

The brunette looked to Lois, and saw nothing in the reporter's face that would require her to stay. And now was clearly not the time to bring up the raised voices she'd heard a moment ago. In most social situations, Maggie was the most laid-back of their group of friends, but when she felt the need to be professional, she could be seriously intense. The look in her blue eyes at the moment was not one any of them wanted to trifle with. That, paired with the somber nod Lois gave her, was enough to make her depart.

All Maggie said once they were alone was, "Sit." Lois, expecting a dressing-down of epic proportions, did so without argument. Other than Clark, she had had the feeling that she would have to answer to Maggie for falling into this trap. She vividly remembered the lecture she got the night the cop had arrested her, and couldn't help but expect that this would be ten times worse.

Maggie took the seat across from Lois' desk, leaned back in it, and fixed Lois with that no-nonsense look. "Tell me, exactly, what the terms of this deal were."

And there was no way Lois could tell her _all_ of it. Maggie didn't know the truth about Clark, and while she was obviously trustworthy, the inner circle of the family had long ago decided to keep the secret on principle. But she could tell the policewoman enough to satisfy her. "Luthor called me and wanted to meet me – he threatened to publicize certain things if I didn't. When I got there, he promised to leave me alone, I promised to leave him alone. I said I wouldn't hunt him, and he said he'd pull back the spies he had following _everyone_ in this family, including Clark's mom."

Still kicked back in the chair, Maggie betrayed not the slightest emotion when she asked, "So you made the deal. When did you decide to break it? And why decide to search him out now? You've said before that you were chasing L-Tech."

After having spent several years with Elliot, and with Maggie herself, Lois knew when she was being analyzed; just this once she told herself that it was important. Her friend needed to understand what she had been thinking on all levels. Forcing herself to just let go and tell the story, Lois let her body relax into her own chair. It almost seemed a relief in itself to just tell the story out loud. "L-Tech's been getting bolder and bolder," she began. "They're using Kryptonian technology, Maggie, and that stuff is _dangerous_. So far advanced beyond our science that it's like … like giving nuclear weapons to Victorian England. And some of the product names are sly references to Superman that only I would get. It was Luthor, taunting me. And so help me, I took the bait." Her head began to throb again, and she leaned forward to rub her aching temples.

Once again, Maggie was regarding her with clear consideration, waiting long enough to reply that Lois felt herself start to shrink. "He would have come after you eventually," Maggie finally said and Lois exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You know that, right? Luthor called _you_ to make the deal. That means he wanted you off his back. Last time he tangled with you, he got his ass kicked, _thoroughly_. So he had to keep you out of it. But he was planning to start this up again. He just wanted to make you think it was your fault – he knows you pretty well, the bastard."

The reporter's jaw tightened, eyes narrow. "Of course he was planning it," Lois said with bitter resentfulness. "The minute I published the next Superman article, he couldn't leave it alone."

"You're right, he has such a freakin' complex about Superman, he has to go after anyone connected to the guy. And there's no one more connected that you, Lane. Besides his spies, there's something else that indicates Luthor was plotting." Lois looked at the cop expectantly, a little confused, and Maggie sighed. "Remember that video we recovered from the _Gertrude_? The one that exonerated you in two murders because it showed Luthor killing that guy?"

Lois could feel the hair prickle on the back of her neck. "Riley," she said, unable to help her sneer when she remembered his leering face vividly. "His name was Riley. The snuff film guy."

"Winner of the poetic justice award for the year," Maggie said dryly before looking her friend in the eye. "The video's gone, Lois."

Now Lois' hazel eyes went wide, the news making the reporter sit bolt-upright in her seat. "Gone?"

"Vanished. Disappeared. No longer in our evidence locker." Her voice was flat, but Lois had known her long enough to hear the anger vibrating underneath that studious calm. "Along with all the other forensic evidence recovered from the yacht – at least, anything that could point to Luthor. The sonofabitch even stole back the goddamn _wigs_."

Lois could only sit back bonelessly, stunned. The best evidence against Luthor – a guaranteed murder conviction – was simply _gone_. "How?" she stammered, shell-shocked. Her eyes were too wide now, utterly floored by the revelation.

Now it was Maggie's turn to sound bitter. "He has someone on the force. That slimy little prick has someone on _my_ police force. And if he's good enough to steal _that_ much critical evidence, I'm going to have a royal bitch of a time catching him."

In a day full of demoralizing blows, this one caught Lois off guard. Her fury at Luthor had turned, in frustration, to a sort of dull resentment. Sooner or later she would be quickened to sharp, useful rage once again, but for now she was simply miserable. Only one bright flicker remained: she was going to Nevada, she would find Luthor there no matter what it took, and then there would be a reckoning.

"Lois." Maggie spoke quietly then, but there was something different in her tone, and the reporter looked up. "Nevada has very … lax gun laws. You can go practically anywhere carrying a pistol at your hip, in full view, and it's no big deal. You don't need permits for anything but concealed carry."

Well, at least she'd be able to bring her gun. But there was something more in the gleam of Maggie's eyes. She had a feeling she knew what the other woman was saying between the lines, but wanted to be sure she didn't misunderstand. Grave hazel met the cop's blue as they stared at each other for a long moment. "What are you telling me, Mags?"

The policewoman leaned forward. "I'm telling you we'll never take him the right way. There will never be justice for Luthor, not if he can manipulate the system as well as he has. So keep your gun close, keep it loaded, and if you get him in your sights, Lois… Well, you won't be in _my_ jurisdiction." Her meaning was as clear as the glacial ice her eyes resembled.

…

Plans continued on in the world outside the Lane-Kent study. "Logistics, people," Perry was saying gruffly. "Okay, so we're considering the evac point to be Kansas. The question at this point is, who's going to Smallville, and how're they getting there?"

"I've got that 'how' handled," Lana said quickly. "I'll charter a plane, and I think I can provide a trustworthy pilot." She glanced at Richard and smiled. He returned the expression, but by he knew her well enough to tell from the slightest arch of one eyebrow, the briefest wink of one eyelid, that she was plotting something.

"That just leaves us with the 'who'. Good," Perry commented, taking full command of the room and the plans for the time, something that seemed to calm the rest of the room. They all instinctively trusted the Editor's judgment in a crisis and as far as Perry White was concerned, that was just as it should be. "Loueen, you and Bryan are going. No arguments; I don't want to hear it." He could feel his wife's narrowed gaze on him, but continued on without missing a beat. "That said, I'm staying; with Lois and Clark both gone, I'm running the paper. I'll be damned if I'll let Luthor run me off my own turf, and he comes after me, he might get a surprise." His tone brooked absolutely no opposition, the Chief at his dogged finest.

He had no more than finished his sentence and Jimmy was there at his side. "That makes two of us. When he goes after the paper, that's _our_ fight. I'm with you all the way, Chief." The older man couldn't help grinning, though he tried to scowl.

Ron stepped forward then, nodding decisively to Perry. "In that case, I want to stay, too," he said. "You guys need someone who can run International while Clark's gone. But Lucy and my kids are shipping out, though."

Lucy immediately protested, despite knowing what they were up against. Her sweet face tensed in worry. "Ron, I don't want you staying here alone. I mean, if he got to one of us already, what's to stop him again?"

"Fine, he can stay with me," Perry said. "We've got a spare room, and that's one less house we have to guard. Besides, I wouldn't like having the river with that so-very-convenient dock right at my back, if I were you."

"Agreed," Ron said. Maggie had just returned to the group, and nodded approvingly at what Perry was doing.

Tobie was the next to speak up, stepping forward to stand beside the two men. "Staying." When Maggie looked as if she was about to speak, the dark-haired reporter added, "Honey, I'm EIC, I can't leave. And I don't really think Smallville's ready for me, anyway." The light sarcasm in that phase caused a ripple of knowing laughter, relieving the tenseness in the room just a bit. Tobie even gave a little grin before continuing on. "Besides, our apartment's pretty safe: I've got the guns, I've got the dog, and I've got _you_, Mags." Unspoken but plain on her face was the fact that she could also watch Maggie's back.

The room was now humming low with excitement. After feeling like sitting ducks, the decision to close ranks and choose sides had returned vitality to the family. Cat spoke up now, glancing at the others, "I don't want to go, either. Someone has to cover my angle so we get to see more of the whole picture. Sometimes news travels a little faster to the news networks, but I don't want to stay at my place alone, either. Tobe?"

The _Star_ editor didn't even hesitate. "Spare bedroom, gotcha. What about Ian?" For once, Tobie wasn't cracking wise about Cat's choice of men.

"He had to leave town last night," the blonde replied. "Family reunion – it was planned months ago. And quite frankly, the way this was starting to smell, I wanted him as far out of it as I could manage."

"Huh. So all those years being a talking head never dulled your reporter's instincts after all. I _am_ impressed, Blondie." That would have been insulting from anyone but Tobie, and Cat just smiled and flipped her the bird.

"Yeah, great, when this is all over, you two can have your own sitcom," Perry said sardonically before turning his attention back to the group at large. "How about everyone else? Jason?"

When actually asked for his opinion, Jason looked hopeful for a moment. Maybe if he appealed to Uncle Perry… But before he could even open his mouth, Richard overrode him. "Son, you're going to Smallville. That's the end of it."

While Richard and Jason shared stern looks, Lana could only sigh before looking over at Elise and Sebast. "Elise, you shouldn't be on your own, but I don't think your parents would appreciate us shipping you off to Smallville without so much as a by-your-leave."

"They wouldn't like that," the girl answered immediately. "But … they know Sebast. I could probably stay with his family 'til they get home."

Sebast gave her a small grin, agreeing. "Sure. I mean, I must be the only guy whose parents are _happy_ when girls come over and spend the night. I can call them, but I doubt they'll mind, especially since this has to do with Kala." Both women saw the flash of misery in his eyes when he said the name.

"Just to be safe, we'll have someone watching your house, too," Maggie said, rejoining the overall conversation. "I don't know how far Luthor will go, but I wouldn't put anything past him. Speaking of which, Richard, you should warn your parents."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he muttered. "My mom's already having histrionics, Maggie."

The comment was enough to start another bawl from Perry. "Tell her to cut the damn apron strings already, you're a big boy," his uncle groused. "That woman! Besides, you've got a wife to keep an eye on you now, and she won't let you get in trouble. Will you, Lana?"

The redhead spoke without wavering. "Wherever I go, Richard comes with me."

"Always," Richard added, reaching to squeeze her good hand. "Hon, you should probably call your parents, too, let them know we're coming."

"Oh, I will," Lana said, and this time Perry saw the little flicker of a wink she gave Richard. Well, well. It seemed that Lois wasn't the only devious one in the family.

Turning his attention away from his nephew and niece-in-law, the _Planet_ editor considered the rest of the room. "Is that everyone? I think we're down to the college kids. Jamie and what's-your-name?"

"Nick," the blond boy said, still looking rather uneasy. "Look, not that I don't appreciate the thought, but I really don't think anyone will come after me. I mean, from the sounds of things, I'm not exactly a close family friend."

"And we did have a bitch of a time tracking you down," Maggie mused. "Jamie? Want to come stay with us for a few days? We've got the sofa-bed."

Jamie didn't even attempt a dispute. "Sure. Safety in numbers."

"That's everyone." Perry surveyed them all thoughtfully. "All right then, what are we doing for tonight? Lana, I know you're a miracle worker, but I highly doubt you can charter a plane before tomorrow, not to mention file flight plans."

Lana gave a small smile of acknowledgment at that, a smile that made all in the room grateful that she was still here amongst them. "You're right. And Richard and I have nowhere to stay tonight – our apartment is still a crime scene."

It was Lucy that made the final decision for all of them, with a quick glance at Ron. "Bring everyone to our place. We've got the room, and we can leave as a group."

…

Sylvia harrumphed, a skill she'd perfected over the years. "It's your son, Theo," she called, and Theodore White sighed deeply. They'd gotten an extremely brief phone call from Richard last night, telling them that Lana had been attacked, but everyone was okay. Sylvia had been annoyed that Richard broke the connection after relaying the news instead of letting his parents comfort him.

Theo took the phone from her. "Any good news?" he asked his son.

"Lana's out of the hospital," Richard said. "And we have a lead on where Kala is. That's about all there is to the good news." The older man listened quietly, his heart sinking, as Richard detailed everything they'd learned.

Sylvia was hovering expectantly, still too vexed at Richard to have spoken to him, but wanting to know what was going on anyway. At the expression on Theo's face, she leaned against the arm of his chair and took his hand gently.

With Sylvia watching worriedly, Theo managed to reassure his son. "It's a gated community… Security's very good. And we will be careful. What about _you_?"

He nodded slowly as Richard replied, glad that the boy would be safe. Richard had always been a little too much the daredevil, eager to risk exactly the things Sylvia wanted so badly to protect him from. At least from the sounds of things Richard was going to listen to his wife, and if a more sane and sensible individual existed, Theo wasn't aware of it. Lana would surely keep him safe. After a few moments he let the boy go, hearing snippets of other conversations in the background.

"Well?" Sylvia's voice was a trifle shrill, and Theo knew he'd have to minimize the danger to her. But halfway through his edited explanation – which he suspected was twice watered down, if Richard ran true to form in relaying anything dangerous to his parents – Sylvia flung her hands up. Her mouth was drawn down in an unpleasant moue of anger and fear. "How can he _do_ this?" she cried. "Someone's _stalking_ them and he's running off to the middle of _nowhere_? Can't he get into Witness Protection or something? Theo, you _know_ he hasn't got any better sense, why didn't you talk some into him for once?"

Theo let her run on, ignoring even the occasional digression into how all of this was _Lois'_ fault. He held his wife's hand and murmured soothingly, knowing that Richard had actually become _more_ responsible when he was with Lois. That didn't matter to Sylvia, though. She was frightened, worried about her son, and needed someone else to blame.

Of course, the fact that Theo was comforting Sylvia meant he could barely spare a moment for his own fears. There had been something in Richard's voice, some subdued and thoughtful note, that Theo didn't like.

…

Sighing, Richard dropped his phone back in his pocket. That was when Lana slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Hey, gorgeous," he murmured, kissing her hair. Impossible to imagine what he would be doing now if he'd lost her yesterday – the world without her in it would have very little vibrancy left.

"Hardly," she murmured, but Richard didn't miss the smile that curved her lips at the compliment. Just seeing that was enough to make him grateful all over again to have her here to give it. "I came straight here from the hospital, Richard, and I'm going to _have_ to get a shower before we leave. Ick."

"You're gorgeous to me," he told her, hugging her gently.

Lana managed a halfhearted chuckle, but the glimmer was back in her eyes. "You always say that."

"It's always true." Lana let him hold her, and Richard saw those sea-green eyes scan the room surreptitiously. His smile widened, seeing all the signs of the gears turning wildly in her mind, and he murmured, "We're not going to Smallville, are we?"

"No," she whispered, and Richard followed her gaze. Clark was completely preoccupied, talking to Perry and Ron and getting texts from his mother, so he likely couldn't spare the concentration to listen in on them. And prefaced by love-talk, why would he eavesdrop?

"So what _are_ we doing?" The adrenaline was back, the rush of doing something more than halfway crazy.

"Do you really think Lois and Clark can do this for more than one day without turning on each other?" That could have been snidely sarcastic coming from anyone else, but Lana made it an honest question. "Because I really, truly don't. I think if we're not there to shepherd them along, they'll get into a fight and separate and _he'll_ have them both."

"We're following them," Richard said. "I can find a pilot we trust for the plane you're chartering, but you and I will take my plane and go straight to Nevada. I can work out the flight plan and file it tonight."

"We can spend tonight at Ron and Lucy's," Lana replied, still in that low tone. "I won't tell anyone what we're planning until after those two have left. Clark would never agree to let us come along, but once we're there, he'll have to deal with it."

"Smart lady." Richard kissed her hair again, missing its usual faintly herbal scent from the henna rinse she didn't think he knew about. "You're one brave woman, too. Did I ever tell you that?"

She laughed then, and tilted her head back for a kiss. "Not really. I'm just trying to avoid _my_ parents. Yours are overprotective, but mine will be apoplectic if they see me with stitches and bandages."

…

Jason was doing a slow, angry burn at this point. All the adults were making plans, but every suggestion he had ventured had either been vetoed or ignored. He hadn't even been able to talk to Mom. Dammit, he was Kala's twin, he had superpowers, and he was a hero in training: he _should_ be going out to Nevada. It was obvious.

And then he overheard Richard and Lana whispering. Hoping that they might be reconsidering the notion of packing him off to Smallville with the younger kids, he listened in. Jason's hearing was nowhere near as keen as his sister's, and so mainly ignored by his family, but it _was_ sharper than the average teen. With concentration, he could make out what they were saying.

And far from being hopeful, it only added insult to injury. Richard and Lana were going to Nevada? By _themselves_?! Neither of them had powers of any kind, and Lana had already had far too close a brush with death for Jason's comfort. He was torn between indignant anger and honest fear for them. Somehow, someway, he _had_ to get to Nevada.

Elise and Sebast had been looking for him; they noticed his absence soon after Jason slunk out of the meeting, and found him in the hallway. One look at his expression told Elise that something was up. "Hey, get a grip, lizardboy," she said, hoping to startle him back to his senses with the familiar taunt. The dark look on his face when he narrowed his blue eyes at her only concerned her more. "What happened?"

"Richard and Lana are going to Nevada," Jason whispered harshly. "I just overheard them. How they can _do_ that? If anyone goes, _I_ should!"

His voice was rapidly rising, and Sebast caught his elbow. "Come on, _mano_, let's talk where no one can eavesdrop on us, okay?"

The three teens decamped to Jason's bedroom, where he dropped onto his bed with a groan. Elise took the chair, and Sebast leaned against Gazeera's cage. "Okay, so the Whites are going to Nevada. In secret?" Elise looked a little doubting as she spoke.

"They're gonna keep it from Mom and Dad," Jason said. "But I guess they'll tell everyone else after Mom and Dad leave. They'd kinda have to. Richard's a pilot, you know, they can fly out there."

The way that Sebast looked at him made his perplexity obvious. "Why not just tell your parents and all four fly out together?"

Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew he had to be careful how much he told them. "Dad will freak. He's already borderline psychotic – you saw that. He and Mom almost _never_ yell at each other." He laughed bitterly. "I think they've argued more in the last six months than they did in the nine years before that. This with Mom cutting a deal just made him hit the roof."

Elise and Sebast exchanged a glance. It was certainly true that they'd never noticed any tension in the Lane-Kent house, never heard any arguing. Until today. While they were pondering, Jason thumped the mattress angrily. "I _have_ to get out there! She's my _twin_, I _have_ to be there for her!"

"Jason," Elise said gently. "You know, maybe … maybe your parents have a point. I mean, we don't want Luthor to get you, too. And your mom and dad have Superman to help them."

"You don't understand." Jason's voice was almost a growl; the strain he was under showed in his eyes and in the tension in his shoulders. "I promised her I'd never let anyone separate us. I _promised_."

Sebast bit his lip and shared a look with Elise before replying. "Jason, you know we love you and everything, but realistically and all, what can you do that they can't? I mean, this is serious."

For a moment, it seemed that Clark's fury of moments before had been passed on to his son, but Jason controlled himself, his stormy expression subsiding. "Save her," he said, biting off each syllable.

Elise was hesitant to bring it up, but knew someone had to speak reason to him. It just sucked that it had to be her. "Jase, as much as I hate to say it, maybe that's a job for Superman," she ventured cautiously.

"No, it isn't." Jason stared at both of them, and then began to speak with a dry, terrible kind of clarity. They both knew, of course, that Jason and Kala had been kidnapped ten years ago, but neither of the twins talked much about it. They brushed off the whole experience in a few sentences, as if it were nothing important, but Jason gave them a much more detailed picture … though far from complete.

"I saved her the last time," he said, voice low, eyes intent. "When Luthor brought us to that island – the one that's out there still orbiting Saturn – and used us for _bait_. It's what he's trying to do again, using Kala to get Superman, and he'll come for her, he always does. We're his godchildren, and he's always loved Mom, and Luthor freakin' _knows_ he'll come after Kala just like he did the last time.

"And you know what happened the last time? Luthor tricked him. Superman didn't know the island was made of _kryptonite_, the one thing that can kill him, and he was standing on a whole damn island of it. Luthor stabbed him with it, and then started beating him up. Us, _six years old_, we were watching this happen, watching Superman get beaten bloody by a madman who'd threatened our lives – a man who threatened to cut my throat if Mom didn't put down her gun and let him take her hostage, too.

"Kala went and freaking jumped him, attacked Luthor, and when he grabbed her she freaking _bit him_. And you know what he did? Knocked her off the side and into the ocean, with her hands tied." Fierce pride glowed in Jason's voice.

Sebast was no longer leaning on Gazeera's cage, his eyes wide with amazement. He'd known about Kala's nightmares and her fear of drowning, but hadn't connected the two or realized that they had a basis in real events. "Bastard," Elise hissed.

"Superman was stabbed and beaten up, and Luthor left – left Superman to die of kryptonite poisoning, left my sister to drown, left me to die of whatever. Exposure, maybe. He left, and _I_ got Superman up, I helped him, and when he flew down with me to get Kala, _I_ grabbed her. I held onto her while he flew us both to safety. She's my sister, my twin, and I promised I'd always come to save her. _Always._"

That left Elise and Sebast in shocked silence, both of them finally understanding why Jason was half-crazy at the moment. The twins were close, closer than any other kids they knew, closer even than a set of identical twins Elise had known in middle school. And now that bond made sense.

"The last time Luthor had us, while we were on the yacht, he left us in the care of a child molester," Jason said baldly, his voice beginning to break a little. "The guy didn't do anything to either of us, but only because … because he got killed before he could. If he'd do all that to six-year-olds, what the hell could he be doing to Kala right now? I don't even know where she is, Nevada's a big state, all I know is she's alive, and _I'm supposed to be with her!_"

"Whoa," Elise said, moving to sit beside him. That last had been too loud, almost a shout, and they didn't want the parents' attention. "Jason, calm down. You made your point."

"So what?" he muttered, sniffing strongly to try and hide the fact that he was close to tears.

"So we're gonna figure out how to get you to Nevada." That was Sebast, and Elise looked up sharply, startled that he'd read her mind. The Latino boy shrugged. "Between the three of us we've got enough brains to come up with _something_. Right?"

With that, they settled down to do some real plotting.

…

Somehow half the day had been bled away in meeting and planning, and Clark was anxious to be gone. His daughter was somewhere in Nevada – _if Lois' source could be trusted_, but he pushed the worrisome thought away. Kala was in Nevada, and the sooner he started looking for her, the sooner he could find her and bring her home.

Clark knew, unfortunately, that it wasn't going to be easy. Nevada was vast and thinly populated. The latter would make it easier to listen for her heartbeat with less competing noise, but Lois claimed that Luthor's lab was underground. It was hard to hear things underground, sound waves muffled by the earth. As for sight, Nevada was riddled with mineral deposits and old mines and military installations both active and decommissioned. It would take time to search every patch of ground, time he couldn't afford, but was forced to spend.

It was time for them to leave – but Lois, suddenly, was nowhere in sight. Maggie saw Clark looking around, and came over to him. "What's up?"

"Where's Lois?" He couldn't help the edge that stress gave his voice.

"Don't worry, Clark, she had an errand to run. She'll be back shortly." The policewoman's tone was deliberately casual.

Her words were enough for Clark to feel his heart ice over. Lois had simply _left_, on her own, in spite of the danger they'd been discussing. Why on earth would she have done that…?

The shadow of his doubt must have showed in his expression, because Maggie's tone was sharp when she spoke. "She isn't off meeting Luthor. Lois went out for smokes, Clark, and took my car. I let her go because she knows how to handle herself – and quite frankly, she _needs_ a few minutes away from you right now."

That stung, but it was true; Clark had needed a few minutes away from her, as well. And then his hearing located her, _not_ buying smokes, but alone somewhere, without another human heartbeat for several hundred yards. She was talking, but softly, to herself.

Once Clark realized where she was, he gave her some privacy, going around the group to make sure the plans were completely finalized. This was also the last chance for goodbyes, and in spite of his outburst earlier, almost all of his friends hugged him. That made Clark feel both ashamed of his temper and humbled by the evidence of just how loved he was. The fact that this might, after all, turn out to be the _last_ goodbye only made each murmured farewell more poignant.

When he came to her, Lana caught his hands and looked up at him. Clark flinched, expecting another tongue-lashing. "You know I love you," the redhead said softly. "Clark, I only said what I did to call you to your senses. I _hate_ hurting you – but I love you enough to do it when I have to. We've been friends far too long for me to do anything else."

Clark sighed, glancing away from her, but actually managed a smile when he returned his gaze to hers. "I know."

"Remember that." A hint of humor lurked in her answering smile, and then she added, "You're _going_ to keep in touch, of course. Now tell me where you're headed so I know where to aim my prayers." Clark told her he planned to start in Smith Valley, the next town southeast of Carson City, and then work along the border from there.

Last were the kids. Clark picked up Kristin and held her for a long moment, stroking the glorious red hair that reminded him so much of Lana at that age. Her open affection and sweet-natured personality were heartbreaking; that this child had been in danger for even an instant called up a different sort of wrath, clear-eyed anger that would fuel his search for Luthor. "Love you, Little K," Clark whispered.

"Love you, too," she replied, kissing his cheek without a real understanding of what was happening. Then her blue eyes looked up at him woefully. "Bring Kala back soon, please?"

"Soon as I can." He set her down, and looked for his son, but Jason had absconded. Like mother, like son. With a sigh, Clark locked onto Jason's heartbeat and headed toward it. The boy was in his room, likely brooding over the fact that he couldn't come along.

Halfway up the hall, Clark's phone went off, and he opened it to a text message from Lois. _I think they know Supes has our numbers. Pretend I'm him and take off. I'll be home in 5._ Good thinking, that – Clark had wondered how they would manage the actual leave-taking.

Ahead of him, Jason's bedroom door opened, and the three teenagers walked out, looking nervous. Clark had to suppress a chuckle; as if he'd suspect Elise and Jason of getting into trouble at a time like this, especially when they had Sebast to chaperone. "Superman just sent me a message," he told the group of them. "I'm leaving now. Your mother will be here in a few minutes and he'll pick her up."

Jason sighed heavily, and Clark hugged him. In spite of the boy's resentment, his son responded with equal affection. Stepping back, he continued trying to reason with him. "I know you hate this, son, but trust me – it's for the best. Don't make things difficult for your Aunt Lucy, okay?"

The flash of annoyed petulance marked him as Lois' son so clearly. "All right, Dad, I'll go to Lucy's tonight like a good little boy." Jason couldn't keep the sullen tone entirely out of his voice, but he sounded defeated. Clark hated that, but it was necessary.

"Elise, Sebast…" Clark didn't quite know what to say, but Elise stepped forward and gave him an impulsive hug.

"Be safe, both of you" she said, and Sebast just shook his hand wordlessly.

If he wanted to leave time for Superman to realistically drop him off and come back for Lois, he had to go _now_. "Take care yourselves. We'll try to get you updates on Kala through Jason," he said, and turned to go.

The family paused as he opened the French doors to the balcony. "Superman sent me a text message," Clark explained to Maggie. "He's going to come in fast in case of any snipers. I'll keep in touch…"

A convincing yelp of surprise as he blurred with super-speed, the flare of the cape released from beneath his suit, and Clark was up and away. None of them could have seen the quick change or realized that only one man rocketed away from the terrace, and he didn't slow down to give them the chance.

Hovering in the clouds, he waited for Lois to arrive home. She had to say her farewells, too, and Lucy was especially reluctant to let go. Even from here, he could see the redness in Lois' eyes, and hear the tiniest catch in her voice that told him she'd been crying.

It took about ten minutes for Lois to tie up her own goodbyes and he could see from his vantage point the way her shoulders were squared when she stepped out onto the balcony. Taking a moment to brace himself, he soared down to get her, thinking how very unlike most of their flights this was going to be.

* * *


	31. Distant Storms Rising

**Happy Halloween, all! Wanted to get this up before we needed to get a couple hours of sleep before heading to Orlando. Here's hoping that this week's chapter is considered more treat than trick!And we're back on schedule as of this week! See you in two!**

* * *

Much to her own surprise, Kala didn't have to fake her frustration and disappointment. Because the crystals Luthor had used to create it were missing a few tiny pieces – the ones that had been used in research, and to create New Krypton – this version of Jor-El created lacked certain features of the fully-functional AI in the Fortress. One of which was apparently the ability to understand a human accent. And that was her problem; she'd quickly stopped trying to purposefully deceive the projected image, trying to enunciate clearly in Kryptonese, but all she kept getting was a reminder to work further on the intricacies of her native tongue.

Damn annoying, actually, considering she'd always prided herself on speaking the language better than Jason. Daddy was more fluent, but he'd had many more years of conversing in Kryptonese in which to practice. It stung her to realize she wasn't as proficient as she'd thought, even though that was exactly the impression she'd been trying to give.

"Is there a _problem_, Miss Lane-Kent?" Luthor growled, as one of his technicians reset the crystals.

One good thing about this outcome: she also didn't have to fake her annoyance and anger. Rolling her eyes toward him, Kala snapped back, "I don't know. Why don't _you_ try coaxing him into giving you the weapons information? Oh wait – you _can't_, or you wouldn't need me. It has to be an heir to the House of El."

He stiffened slightly, staring at her, and Kala crossed her arms with a confidence she didn't feel. "Apparently the version of Grandpa Giant Floating Head that I know and loathe is a little more adaptable than your half-baked version. _He_ can allow for human mistakes and mispronunciations."

"Those mistakes wouldn't be _deliberate_, would they?" The madman's voice could be soft and coaxing when he wanted it to be, but Kala knew there was more danger in that honeyed tone than in the snarl a moment ago.

"How stupid do you think I am? I want _out_ of here, the sooner the better, and if I don't try to help you, you'll kill me." It hurt to state that so baldly, but Kala had a lifetime of brazening out confrontations to draw upon. "There's no contractions and no slang in Kryptonese, Luthor. It's a highly formal language. And the cadences weren't meant for a human larynx to reproduce. I'm better than you'll ever be, thanks to Dad, but I still sound a little too human." She paused, for effect, and added in a low mutter, "It's not like I get too many chances to practice Kryptonese, you know. I _am_ in high school, I've got tests and homework…"

The reminder of her mundane life was suddenly painful, her throat closing on the memory of slogging through endless algebra equations with Elise brilliant and sharp-edged as a diamond. Had she really hated those times, been bored out of her mind by repetitive problems? It felt like paradise just now.

"Well, aren't you lucky," Luthor snarled poisonously. "We just so happen to have a _native_ speaker of Kryptonese on hand to tutor you. But I expect to see some progress, _fast_. Or else…"

Kala flipped him the bird as she stalked out. She could insult Luthor as long as he needed her for this, and if she got _too_ cooperative he would suspect deceit. This sort of stereotypical adolescent disrespect should convince him that she was doing what he asked, just protesting as much as any teenager would.

Once out of the room, and unnoticed by security, Kala looked down and gripped her elbows tightly, suppressing a shudder. Luthor's goons scared her, his white-coated scientists creeped her out, and the man himself terrified her. Having to attempt to pry the information he wanted out of a damaged version of her grandfather while under their eyes was awful.

And what she was walking toward was, perhaps, no better. Zod at least had not threatened her, but Kala remained wary of him. He was _Zod_, after all. And now, thanks to her accent, she was going to be spending more time around him. Luthor wouldn't accept 'he's a creepy bastard who tried to enslave my dad and kill my mom' as an excuse for lack of progress. "Great," Kala sighed to herself.

She didn't want to linger out in the corridors, with security guys and technicians eyeing her. It seemed that Luthor had a sizable presence; she hadn't explored a tenth of the compound, and couldn't begin to guess how many people were down here, but both figures looked depressingly high. Or perhaps not so depressing – it was really hard to hide the presence of a lot of people, so maybe it would help Dad find her sooner.

He _had_ to find her. She could only play Luthor and Zod off each other for so long. And Luthor would start to get impatient quickly, especially with how vehement Dad had been on the phone. Everyone knew her time was limited, and Luthor would want results _now_, knowing she'd be trying to stall. Kala didn't even want to think what kind of obstacles he could place in her father's path…

…but she already knew about a big one. Her mother's deal with Luthor. Kala felt ice creep over her heart at that thought, and she shivered, finding herself in the corridor between her room and Zod's. She looked at his door apprehensively. Luthor hadn't quite ordered her to go start language lessons right away, but if she did so, it might make her seem more willing to go along with his plans, and he might back off a little. On the other hand, if she started anticipating his orders he might decide to push her around even more; plenty of kids in school were like that, and Luthor seemed like a bully at heart to Kala. She had always stood up to bullies, always.

While she debated, the door slid open in front of her. Light spilled out, the closest thing to sunlight that could be found here, so far beneath the ground, and it felt as though Kala's skin cried out for it. Just how long did she have, anyway, before she started losing her speed and strength to the lack of sunlight?

Still, she hesitated; Zod had not spoken, but the open door was a clear invitation. _I have to choose; I can't hold both of them at bay. And he is the lesser of two evils. For now. _After a moment, Kala stepped inside, still wary.

Zod had been seated, facing the door, but he rose to acknowledge her. The door slid shut silently, leaving them facing each other. When the silence spun out, Kala unsure of what to say, Zod finally spoke. "Good day, Kala Kal-El."

Kala spent a moment trying to figure out what she should say to him, and finally settled on a fairly innocuous question. "Do I really have an accent?"

"Slight," Zod told her in Kryptonese, pulling out a chair for her. "I assume that Luthor insisted you attempt to gain access to the encrypted information?"

"Yes," Kala said, taking the seat cautiously. She remembered what he'd told her yesterday about Luthor listening in, and fell easily into the language's cadences after having spoken it all morning. "At first I intentionally held back, but even when I tried to speak correctly, the hologram told me I must continue my studies."

Zod sat down across from her at the table where she presumed he took his meals; the entire room was so spotless as to be antiseptic, and the light pouring down reflected off the predominantly white surfaces. "Consider this," the older Kryptonian said after a moment. "Jor-El expected his son to undertake an extensive period of tutelage, perhaps as much as a decade. During that time he would have developed more fluency in our native tongue than you have."

"I _have_ been taking lessons at the Fortress for ten years," Kala informed him haughtily.

"Daily?" The question gave her pause, and Zod continued quietly. "It is one thing to learn a language to passable proficiency. It is another entirely to use that language every day, acquire its idioms and linguistic quirks, to come eventually to _think_ in another tongue than the one with which you were raised. That is the level of fluency which the artificial intelligence demands."

"So Luthor's screwed," Kala muttered in English.

Zod tilted his head. "If you mean to say that what he wants of you is virtually impossible to accomplish, particularly in a limited time frame, then yes."

"But _he_ doesn't have to know that," Kala mused. "At least, not for a while."

"I presume Luthor sent you to me for further lessons in Kryptonese?"

"Not exactly. I came here on my own. I'd rather make my own decisions than let Luthor order me around." It was better not to let him know she'd been fraught with indecision; Kala didn't want Zod to know she feared him. Let him, and Luthor, see her bold and unbowed.

"Proactive." Zod leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers together, and considered. Kala watched him while trying not to show it, thinking _know thine enemy_. Besides, she could learn from him; this was supposedly Krypton's premier strategist, and at the moment he looked every inch the general plotting his next tactic. Only this war would be fought with minds and misdirection instead of weapons and troops, and their opponent already possessed the means to destroy them both.

Yeah, Kala was definitely in over her head here, and she could use his expertise. He knew Luthor better than she did, too. If anyone had a chance of escaping Luthor's plots, it was Zod. She had to put her hopes _somewhere_, and Zod was better than Luthor. But Kala reminded herself that part of the reason he could help her was that he could think like Luthor, and that should stay uppermost in her mind. _He can think like Luthor because he __**is**__ like Luthor: amoral, self-serving, willing to sacrifice others. Zod might be able to get me out of here, but I can't trust him._

"We must appear to comply with Luthor's plans, while in truth defying him," Zod murmured. "If he thinks us docile, he will turn his attention elsewhere; that is how I acquired the light bulbs which mimic sunlight. He believes me tamed, and did not think that I might be working to increase my powers."

The thought of Zod with _more _power sent a tendril of unease down Kala's spine, even though he had already told her about the light bulbs. He was quite powerful enough to threaten her now, though he hadn't done so. She shrugged off the disquieting thought with a reminder that he could be stronger than he seemed. "So, language lessons," Kala said in English. "Ever taught Advanced Kryptonese?"

Zod's saturnine features were skeptical, and Kala reminded herself he'd had little exposure to teenage sarcasm. "No. But I presume myself capable of the task. That is well, considering it has already been assigned me." He considered for a moment further, then continued, "You already have an adequate foundation in our language. I suppose the best way to proceed is to simply use Kryptonese as much as possible."

Kala sat up a little straighter when she switched to Kryptonese to reply, completely unconscious of the fact that she associated proper posture with proper speech. "In other words, talk. With you, since you are the only source of correct pronunciation other than the hologram itself."

"A dire fate indeed," Zod said, raising an eyebrow. Kala gave a wry smile; so he _did_ have a sense of humor. Enough of one not to take offense at her not-precisely-respectful comments. That was good to know. It made him seem less like her family's oldest nemesis and more like an actual person, someone she could understand.

"Forgive me. I am … under a great deal of stress," Kala apologized.

Zod inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. "As are we all. In any case, I am certain you have some unanswered questions about Krypton. All of your knowledge of your ancestral home comes filtered through the lens of one man's observations. Perhaps I can enlighten you further."

And that was the one thing Kala could not have been able to resist. Even before Luthor demanded that she get language lessons from Zod, she'd wanted to talk to him about Krypton, to speak with someone who had actually walked its streets, been inside its buildings. Jor-El was not usually patient with her desire to learn more; he had an agenda to teach his heirs, and nostalgia wasn't on it. Unless the topic could be related, however indirectly, to the hero's quest, Jor-El was unlikely to spend much time on it.

But here was Zod, who hadn't been able to reminisce with one of his own people for over a decade. Non and Ursa had been held in separate facilities ever since their capture. He likely would have been willing to talk even if Luthor hadn't compelled them into this situation. His perspective on Kryptonian life was probably a bit different than Jor-El's, too, and Kala had always been taught that to see anything completely, you _had_ to look at it from more than one point of view.

Leaning forward on the table, her hazel eyes alight with curiosity, Kala tried to decide what to ask first.

…

In a long day filled with bad news and the suspicion of worse to come, Maggie simply wanted to go home, curl up on her sofa, and drink some scotch on the rocks. Tobie, Cat, and Jamie would all be safe in the apartment with her. Very shortly, those who were heading to Smallville would be at Ron and Lucy's place, where they'd have police protection. And the rest were doubling up, watching each other's backs. She could relax a little, once everyone was home for the day.

Of course, Lois and Clark were headed right into trouble, but they would have Superman looking after them. You couldn't ask for better protection than that. He'd already saved Richard's life and hers in the past twenty-four hours. Maggie still remembered, all too clearly, how she'd felt the instant that Lois had screamed at her to get down. It wasn't the first time she'd been fired upon, and likely wouldn't be the last, but Maggie had discovered then that she _hated_ snipers. Some punk with a Saturday Night Special aimed at her, she could handle; she could read body language, make a guess about whether the gunman would really shoot or not, and if he was going to fire, she could often see it before he even began to move his trigger finger. But a sniper was out there somewhere, so far away you couldn't even see the person trying to kill you, far enough that you had no chance to negotiate or defend yourself.

Maggie gave a little shiver at the turn her thoughts had taken. She cast about for something to break her mood, and when she saw Jason walking toward her, she was at first relieved. "Hey there, Jason," the policewoman said. "How're you holding up?"

The boy sighed, his serious blue eyes looking into hers steadily. A lot of kids his age were nervy around cops, but Jason had an utterly clean conscience and it showed in his bearing. So very much his father's son… "Aunt Maggie, I need a favor from you," he said quietly.

"And what would that favor be?" Maggie's voice had gone careful, wondering what he could want. If Jason was being quiet and relatively secretive about it, it couldn't be something good.

"I want to see Giselle."

He'd barely gotten the words out when Maggie retorted, "No. Absolutely not."

Jason looked at her reproachfully, which was comical enough that Maggie let him try and talk her into it. "Aunt Maggie, she was my girlfriend for the last four months. I talked to her every day, had her visiting our apartment almost every week, and I never even guessed she was a spy for Luthor. Or that she was twenty-two. It's … it's a serious head trip for me, okay?"

"I imagine it must be," Maggie replied cautiously. "So why do you want to see her again, Jason?"

"I want…" He paused, looking away for a moment, his hands balling into fists and then relaxing. "I want to see the actress with her mask off. I want to know who she _really_ is, who I've been kissing all this time. I want to know if she's actually a bad person, or just someone who got mixed up in the wrong things."

Poor boy – poor sweet, noble boy. He would have made a great cop, if he could develop a thick skin over those sensitive feelings. "Jason, even if you were able to see her again, I can't guarantee you'll get answers to any of those. She has no reason to tell you the truth."

"She has no reason to keep lying, either," he pointed out. "Besides, if I never talk to her again, I can guarantee I _won't_ get answers. It's worth a try, at least."

He was an optimist, too, something Maggie had never claimed to be. "She might just as easily try to hurt you. She knows you well enough to know just where to stick the proverbial knife in. Jason, it's not worth it."

The boy shrugged. "She's in jail, isn't she? You wouldn't let me see her without a glass wall between us, anyway. The only way she can hurt me is with words – and sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." Jason grinned half-heartedly, as if the old rhyme were actually true.

Maggie knew better than she wanted to that it was false. Some words – 'unfit mother' for example – hurt worse than any broken bone she'd ever had, and left scars on the psyche that lingered far longer than scars on the skin. For further proof, she could look no further than Lois, still trying to prove her father wrong after the man had been in his grave almost twenty years. All she said to Jason, however, was, "You're a smart enough young man to know that isn't true."

"I'm smart enough to know I probably won't get what I want," Jason countered, "but I'd be a coward not to at least try. Besides, Aunt Maggie, the city jail ought to be safe. It's controlled-access and full of police and corrections officers, right?"

She crossed her arms and stared at him. The boy had a point, and she found herself considering the request as if it came from an adult, and not a sixteen-year-old boy. Jason had often seemed more mature than his age.

There was one good thing about the situation – he was still young enough that she could fob him off with 'because I said so, that's why.' Maggie sighed. "I'll think about it, Jason, but no promises, okay?"

"Thank you," he said gravely, and contented himself with that answer.

…

Luthor watched the surveillance screen, scowling. The girl was up to something, but he couldn't tell exactly what her game was. She'd seemed sincere in her efforts to convince the hologram, but Luthor could hear the difference between the way the girl spoke Kryptonese and the way Jor-El and Zod sounded. It would take lots of practice for Kala to sound like a true Kryptonian. And Luthor didn't have that kind of time.

What he did have was Zod. Perhaps the general hadn't been quite honest with his old enemy; it was possible that he'd been holding out. If the hologram would speak to anyone who approached, how could it tell if Zod wasn't one of its heirs? Perhaps a little competition would inspire the Kryptonian to his best effort. After all, if it looked like Kala might unlock the information, Zod would become superfluous – and since he hadn't even tried to ally himself with Luthor, Zod knew what his fate would be.

Right now, Zod and Kala seemed to be circling each other, each uncomfortable in the other's presence. That was to be expected; they both knew the significance of the other. Her conception had been his destruction, and his brief reign had ultimately led to her father's absence. Luthor chuckled. The general was too arrogant, too cold-bloodedly aloof, to cultivate an alliance with Kala, and the girl was too temperamental, too young and hot-headed, to think about such things. The possibility of them uniting against him was remote, but even so, Luthor already had plans to address the issue.

Regardless, he had to keep the pressure on. Kal-El would be coming, and though Luthor had hidden his tracks well, even the most obscure trail would eventually be unraveled. It was simply a matter of time, and he had to be ready to spring the trap when the alien did arrive. Hopefully all of his efforts had borne fruit, and the family was now in disarray, mistrusting each other. It would make them much less effective and easier to pick off one by one.

Leaning back in his chair, Luthor pondered the many strategies open to him. One item in particular loomed large in his calculations: the kryptonite gun he'd fashioned, which was locked in a lead vault just outside this office, along with some other samples of kryptonite. It was the ultimate answer to so many problems: Zod's recalcitrance, Kal-El's discovery of the facility, Kala's defiance. If the thing hadn't leaked radiation at levels Stanford said were unsafe for humans, Luthor would have carried it at his side all the time.

But even if he couldn't keep the lethal kryptonite gun close to hand, Luthor was never unarmed. In the desk drawer beside him was a .357 magnum Ladysmith revolver, the five-shot model with a rosewood grip. A woman's gun, his security staff would have scoffed, but Luthor knew it was designed for maximum man-stopping power. The hollow-point bullets in its cylinder would not blow through their target, instead intended to lodge deep in the central body mass and deliver all of their force to internal organs. A gun meant not to threaten, not to impress, but to kill.

Luthor smiled. He would have expected no less from the weapon he'd taken from Lois Lane.

…

Kala's head was swimming in history. She'd learned more in the past hour – or was it two? ­– than she had in a year's worth of lessons with Jor-El. Not just the events, but a little background on the principal people involved in them, as well as detailed descriptions of the locations where they'd taken place. Zod had a gifted memory, at least for things that interested him, and history certainly interested him.

Jor-El usually wanted her to memorize a list of historical facts, and he would discuss the broad political and cultural importance of some of them. Zod could spin out at least five ramifications of each event, and track the trends in society that had led to each. That was exactly the kind of in-depth information Kala craved.

Along the way Zod would occasionally correct her pronunciation, or suggest a more elegant way of phrasing something, but she'd forgotten about language. This was simply too fascinating for anything else to hold her attention. And Kala hadn't even gotten through half of the things she wanted to ask; she kept getting sidetracked by some new detail, some seemingly unrelated circumstance that Zod would patiently explain to her.

Zod paused for a sip of water, something he'd been doing frequently, and Kala leaned her head back to ease her stiff neck. She looked slowly from one side to the other, trying to ease her tense muscles, and caught a glimpse of the clock. Which seemed to be wrong – it couldn't be _that_ late, could it?

Seeing the direction of her gaze, Zod said, "Perhaps we should pause briefly."

"It's really that far into the afternoon?" Kala asked.

"Yes. The perception of time is relative, and you have been preoccupied."

A fancy way of saying 'time flies', but accurate. Kala looked back at the clock, and was struck by a sudden wave of homesickness. If she'd been at home, right about now she and Jason would be browsing the fridge, accustomed to snacks after school. Likely as not, they would have been pushing each other, calling names, and generally behaving like a couple of heathens as they squabbled over who got the hummus or the leftover curry. She longed for that little slice of normalcy so much that tears stung her eyes, and she got up hurriedly, trying to hide her sudden weakness from Zod.

He remained seated, and she could feel the weight of his silent regard as she struggled to regain her composure. Kala couldn't help sniffling a little, arms crossed and hands gripping her own shoulders as if to keep herself from flying apart with the yearning to simply _go home_…

"You miss your home," Zod observed quietly. "It is a feeling with which I have considerable acquaintance."

Kala turned to look at him, wondering how it would feel to know your home was _gone_, destroyed, and the fragments that were left had turned lethal to you. To truly never be able to go home again, to have to live out the remaining years of your life on an alien world whose inhabitants feared and despised you. And then to have some adolescent half-breed pick through your recollections with all the excitement of an archaeologist, never even recognizing her own callow disregard for the fact that these were _your _memories of a world that no longer existed. His expression was hard to read, that typically Kryptonian air of cultivated detachment, but she thought she saw the echo of loss in his eyes.

"If you will accept advice…?" He trailed off, and Kala nodded, not trusting her voice. "I have found that, at times, the memory of Krypton gives me strength and courage and comfort. At those times I cherish it, and I am grateful for the clarity of my recollections. Often, though, to think so much on what is lost beyond any hope of recapture brings only despair."

Another long pause and Kala realized that this was probably one of the latter times. Betrayed and imprisoned by Luthor, reliving the glory of Krypton had to be bittersweet at best. She began to feel guilty for her curiosity, and grateful that Zod had been so patient with her. He continued, "At such times, when memories bring me only pain, it serves no purpose to hold them close. If it wounds you so deeply to think of home, here where you cannot afford to seem vulnerable to Luthor, then I advise you to do as I have done for so many years, and put these reminiscences aside for the present time. If I have learned nothing else from so many years of imprisonment, it is that such memories do not dull with age, becoming clearer the more distant they are. Should you need them, they will always be there, just as I can still clearly recall the sight of Great Rao rising over the Sea of Banzt."

Kala considered it seriously. Right now, it only hurt to think of Jason laughing tossing a pomegranate at her, his hair falling into his eyes, and maybe Dad sighing in defeat from the living room. Or maybe Mom getting fed up with them both and chasing them out of the kitchen, scolding in mock fury that left the teens snickering helplessly…

The thought of Mom was another blow to Kala's fragile psyche, bringing back the memory of Luthor's laughter. Lois _had_ made a deal with him, and for an instant Kala had suspected that maybe the deal was trading her for Jason. After all, the spy in their house had been Giselle, so the logical target was Jason. But at the last minute, Mommy's favorite had been spared, and Kala found herself trapped here instead.

For most of her sixteen years, Kala had never doubted her mother's love. Lois was fiercely protective of both of her children, and it had always been plain that she adored them. Only in the last year or two had things begun to sour between mother and daughter. The arguments had grown more frequent and more vicious, escalating from simply trading snide remarks to outright yelling matches. For every sweet moment between them in the last year, there seemed to be two or more uncomfortable ones. And though Kala knew in her heart that she hadn't exactly been helping things go smoothly, she couldn't believe it was _all_ her fault. She wasn't _that_ bad, was she?

Meanwhile, Jason never seemed to put a foot wrong. Even when they were little, he rarely got yelled at. When both twins got into mischief, Kala was usually the one blamed. Jason had perfected an angelic, wounded look that convinced most adults he was utterly innocent, when in fact he'd been just as much of a rascal as Kala was. He had never taunted Kala about getting away with things, and had always tried to make whatever punishment she had to endure more bearable, so she'd never really blamed him for always getting her in trouble. When it counted, Jason was always by her side – until recently. When she and Mom fought, Jason kept trying to intervene, and more and more often he took Mom's side. That only widened the rift between Lois and Kala, while strengthening the already close bond between mother and son.

If forced to choose which of her children to surrender – and Luthor was damn good at making people choose between two things they didn't want to do, Kala knew from experience – wouldn't Mom choose Jason? Kala knew she'd made _some_ kind of choice, and Jason sure wasn't the one stuck here.

Kala had turned away again, not wanting Zod to see her expression while such painful thoughts burned in her mind. But he read the set of her shoulders accurately. "What troubles you, daughter of the House of El?"

"Nothing," Kala whispered, and then gave a bitter little chuckle before continuing in English. "I don't know. I think… I shouldn't believe Luthor, but … it's hard not to."

She heard Zod rise from his seat and approach, but he stopped a few feet behind her. "Luthor is false, and has always been so. Even when he speaks the truth, he shades it to his own advantage. Trust nothing he has told you unless you confirm it yourself."

"I know, but it makes a sick kind of sense," Kala said, arguing half-heartedly.

"What poison has he spoken?" Zod asked.

"Well, he said…" Kala broke off, recognizing the absurdity of her situation. Zod was not her friend; her ally, maybe, out of desperation on both their parts, but not someone she could trust so easily. Still, who else could she talk to? Schecter, who seemed nice but willingly worked for Luthor? Some random scientist she'd never met before, who for all she knew might be in charge of determining the fatal dose of kryptonite to a Kryptonian hybrid? One of the security guys, who would probably beat her up and rape her given half a chance? "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

Zod heard her scoffing tone and waited without comment. He had to know he was the only person in the compound who'd shown himself to be even slightly trustworthy, and Kala literally had no one else to confide in.

She sighed, figuring that at worst he could confirm her dark suspicions. "Luthor called my father – he wanted to taunt him, frighten him. I wouldn't beg for rescue. Instead I told Daddy to stay away, that I was fine, that Luthor was trying to force him to walk into a trap."

"Courageous of you, and most wise," Zod said. "Few can think so clearly in such circumstances."

"Yeah, well, then Luthor told my dad that Mom made a deal with him. He never said what the deal _was_, but he winked at me when he said it." Kala's throat seemed to close, choked with tears, and she lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. "I don't know, but … what if the deal was Luthor took me instead of Jase?"

Zod was silent again, considering, and he took a few more steps to stand at Kala's shoulder. She found his proximity more comforting than disturbing; Zod was a true Kryptonian, with all of their social taboos about touch, and she was safe with him in a way she wouldn't be safe around any other man in the compound. Perhaps by approaching, he was trying to offer the same sort of sympathy that a human would express with a hug.

"I do not think your mother would have traded you to Luthor," he said slowly. "I did not know her well, but she did not strike me as the sort of woman who compromises easily. It would be more in her character to offer herself to Luthor, rather than endanger her children."

Kala exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. That _did_ sound like something Mom would do. But doubt lingered. "Jason's girlfriend and her mom were Luthor's spies. It sure looked like he was going after Jason, but switched to me at the last minute. What would make Luthor change targets?"

From beside her, Zod asked, "How were you captured?"

She shuddered all over, remembering the stench of the cloth pressed to her face, the world going black. "I … I was in the subway, and they came up behind me. Someone half-smothered me with something, ether or chloroform, and knocked me out. The next thing I knew I was being carried in here."

"Was the subway part of your normal route, or were you doing something unusual?"

Laughing bitterly, Kala replied, "Well, considering that I'd just run away from home for a dumbass reason, it was pretty unusual."

He nodded. "And these spies, did they know of it?"

"Probably," Kala mused. "Jason probably told Giselle as soon as he knew. Actually, Giselle was at the party the night before – she probably knew I was gonna be grounded." She gasped as realization struck. "Holy shit, Giselle was probably the one spreading the rumors about me! She's the only one who could've known… That bitch probably manipulated me into running away!"

"By 'ran away', you mean you left your house without your parents' knowledge or permission." When Kala nodded agreement, Zod elaborated, "So these spies had knowledge of your starting location, and may have known what route you would take as you left home. Your mother, on the other hand, could not have known those things. Therefore, your mother could not have given Luthor the information that led to your capture. It seems you were a target of opportunity; they planned to take your brother, but they had too perfect a chance to pass up."

Kala took a deep, shuddering breath. She hadn't realized until the weight rolled off her heart just how much she dreaded the possibility that her mother had given her away. Trembling, she fought to hold back tears of relief.

Perhaps Zod misunderstood her reaction. "Your mother did not abandon you to Luthor," he reassured, and placed his hand lightly on her left shoulder.

With a half-choked sob, Kala let the tears flow. It was bad luck that had landed her here, not a deliberate choice of her mother's, and whatever deal Luthor was talking about had to be something else entirely. Of course, it would amuse the bald bastard to let Kala think she'd been given away, and her hatred for him flared even brighter.

Anyone else would have embraced her, but Kryptonians didn't _do_ such things. Zod left his hand on her shoulder while she struggled to regain her composure, a gesture of support that spoke louder than any words. Kala turned her head to look at him, trying to find the words to thank him without sounding too personal or too indebted. She glanced down, biting her lip as she searched for the words.

That was when she noticed his hand was slightly crooked, the fingers stiff. Caught off guard, Kala spoke without considering the implications. "Oh, _ouch_! What happened to your hand?"

Zod lifted it to the light, and Kala could see that his hand had been badly mangled at some point in the past. Just as she was blushing with embarrassment at her thoughtless question, Zod answered wryly, "Your father."

* * *


	32. Walking in My Shoes

**Greetings, all! Before we start the chapter, we have an announcement to make. Both of our poor betas are getting hit with real-life insanity right now and we're doing our part to help make it less so and make it easier for everyone to keep track of the posting schedule. After this chapter, we're going to officially make the bi-weekly post on the _first_ and _third_ weeks of every month. That way, our betas know when said beta is due in and we know that we have to be ready with the chapter earlier that week. I know what you're thinking: doesn't that mean...?**

Yes, that means that the next chapter will be posted in three weeks. We didn't want it to fall out that way, but we really don't have a choice unless we rush what's going to be a very important chapter. And there's no way we could churn that out in any quality to make deadlines that close. So, that said, the next chapter will be posted on December 5, which is just before my birthday! :D. That will also give us some headway to maybe start a 12 Days entry for Christmas or at least a oneshot of that sort.

Forgive us, but it was the only way to get things on the right weeks.

And now, back to our regularly-scheduled programming.

* * *

_Now I'm not looking for absolution,  
Forgiveness for the things I do.  
But before you come to any conclusions,  
Try walking in my shoes.  
Try walking in my shoes._

_You'll stumble in my footsteps,  
Keep the same appointments I kept.  
If you try walking in my shoes  
If you try walking in my shoes..._

~**Depeche Mode**

* * *

The plans they'd made were far from concrete, but Elise was pretty good at making it up as she went along, and Sebast had honed his improvisation skills in theater class. That covered two of them. Jason preferred to work things out a little more specifically, but if everything they were plotting went right, he'd have the least to worry about.

Step one, however, was walking out the door. Taking a deep breath and saying a little prayer under her breath that this would work, Elise hurried to catch up with him in the hall outside the Lane-Kents' apartment. "Hey, Nick?"

She held her breath until the college boy turned to look at her. His expression wasn't exactly the epitome of friendliness when his eyes lit on her. His tone was even less so. "Yeah?"

Elise supposed he had a right to sound that hostile; she and Sebast and Jason had been giving him the evil eye ever since he showed up. But he _had_ showed up, even knowing that no one really wanted him there, no one liked him, and most of them at least partly blamed him for Kala running away. He could have just as easily disappeared on the family after their first confrontation with him. In spite of all that, though, he had to have cared enough about Kala to need to know what was going on. Elise felt she could respect him for that.

It kind of sucked more than a little that she was about to take blatant advantage of it. Elise took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "Okay, look. I know we're not friends or anything, and after the way things have been with you and the Kents in the last couple of days, I know you'd like to be shut of all of us. But I need a favor."

Nick looked around in disbelief, as if searching for the hidden camera recording this farce. "Yeah, right. You know, I'm almost curious enough about _why_ you think I'd help you to ask what exactly you want."

Elise folded her arms and stared at him. She should have seen this coming, but she'd been hopeful. Fine, then, she'd have to convince him it was in his best interests to pay ball. "You _want_ to help me, Nick, because you're also helping Jason and Sebast. And they're closer to Kala than anybody. Once she's home, if you want to talk to her again, you need them to owe you one."

Nick's brown eyes narrowed, but Elise met his gaze squarely. "You sneaky underhanded manipulative little…" He trailed off, and Elise got the feeling that he was just a little impressed by her bravado. Running a hand through his blond hair, he gave a small chuckle. "So what do you want, anyway?"

"Nothing much. Just a ride." Elise gave him the least information possible for the moment, though they'd have to bring him into their conspiracy later. Right now, she only wanted to tell him enough to pique his interest.

"Where to?" he asked, trying to read her expression. The look on his face said he was not exactly certain she wasn't having him on.

"Home, from Jason's aunt's house," Elise replied, never batting an eyelash or missing a beat. "Sebast and I are going over there with him for moral support, but we need someone to take us back home. Well, to Sebast's house – I'm going to stay with him. Safety in numbers."

"How come you're asking me and not the cops?" Nick still sounded a little suspicious, but he hadn't said _no_ yet.

"Well, I don't want to bother them," Elise said, but that clearly struck the wrong note, as Nick rolled his eyes. She took a couple of hurried steps to close the distance between them before Nick could walk off. "Okay, _fine_, there's more to it than that, but I can't tell you here. I promise, it's nothing illegal or immoral or anything stupid like that. I just…"

"What?" The blond boy looked at her skeptically, crossing his own arms.

Elise sighed, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "We want it to _look_ like we're leaving, but we're actually going to stay. We'll get out of your car at once we're around the curve and sneak back in a window."

"That's a bad idea," Nick said immediately, but again not refusing. "Not to mention nuts. Why would you want to risk getting shot by the cops for creeping around the house?"

Elise gave him a displeased frown. "We won't get shot, Nick. Jason's in on the plan; we all know that house, and there's a spot where no one will be able to see us as long as we jump out quick. Jason _needs_ us. Nick, this is his twin, and he's going crazy, and none of the grownups have even really noticed. Besides, we're safer there with him than we would be at Sebast's. He already got permission from his mom."

Nick rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Elise just waited. At last he reluctantly said, "Fine. When do you want to be picked up?"

Elise gave him the time with a barely-controlled sigh of relief. He hadn't spotted the falsehood she'd snuck in amidst the truth there, and that was for the best. If Nick knew they intended to sneak Jason onto Richard's plane, he probably wouldn't go along with the plan.

…

Fifteen minutes since they had left the balcony and not a word spoken between them, only the sound of the wind and a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather.

They'd had silence on flights before, but it was usually because they were both too infatuated to string together a sentence. It had always been so easy for Lois to get lost in the sensation of flying. In the years before they were together, flying made her invariably wonder what it would be like to lie next to him. And once they'd been lovers, flying had since always served as a primal, visceral reminder of making love. Moving in harmony with each other, bodies touching, his skin so warm, the absolute trust between them, and her heightened awareness of his strength and tenderness.

Not now. And, she was beginning to wonder, possibly never again.

Kal-El looked straight ahead, never glancing over to see if Lois was all right. His arm across her back was stiff and tense, holding her only as close as was utterly necessary. His face was set in stern lines, and he hadn't spoken to her at all.

Lois tried not to sigh; he would feel that, and she didn't want him to think she was making some kind of passive-aggressive comment with it. What she _wanted_ to do was more overtly-aggressive, but she held her tongue. She was in the wrong, regardless of the reasoning behind it, and she knew it – she'd known it since she made the deal with Luthor. Never mind that she'd only had two choices. Deals with the bad guys just weren't something Kal-El could handle, ever.

They'd had moral arguments before, thrashing out the gray areas and trying to find the narrow, twisting line between 'right' and 'wrong'. Even as far back as their first interviews, Kal-El had scolded Lois for breaking the law in pursuit of a story. Whether picking the locks on a senator's secret apartment to find evidence of his double-dealing, or disguising herself as a valet to gain access to a district attorney's car, Lois was willing to use foul means to a fair end. She never tried to say her actions were _right_; with a friend in the police force, she was well aware of her wrongdoing. But the ultimate outcome was right enough to justify the means.

He'd sat at the balcony across from her, cape flung jauntily over the chair, and demanded to know _why_. Why was she willing to risk her life and freedom, brave any challenge, break any law, in pursuit of a story? Kal-El was the kind of man who had to have firm boundaries, some things he simply _would not_ do, and he couldn't understand her willingness to not just tread the fine line between right and wrong, but to charge over it at full speed.

Trying to keep her tone gentle, Lois had asked him how he would know who to go after. Without the information she gained from breaking the rules, how would he and the police know where to look before it was too late? People in uniform – cops and heroes – had to obey a certain set of scruples, but the bad guys didn't follow them. The villains of the world were trying to hide their guilt, not advertising it, and sometimes it couldn't be discovered through legal channels. Or if they could be found out through ethical means, it would take time, and in that time the evildoers could cause more harm. Laws enacted by a corrupt congressman weren't automatically repealed just because the legislator had been accepting bribes, and the families of murder victims weren't consoled by the killer's capture. Such criminals had to be taken down _before_ they did any more harm than was absolutely necessary, and if that meant that someone had to break the rules and risk getting arrested – or shot at – Lois was willing to dare it. What was that compared to untold lives that hadn't been ended or ruined, thanks to her efforts?

"Besides," she had said as she looked him in the eye, unaware of the irony, "one day it might be _my_ family at risk. My mother, my sister. And if it is, you can bet your ass I'll do _anything_ to save them." The profanity, which she rarely used in front of him in those days, had startled them both into laughter, but the sentiment had rung true.

And still did. What Kal-El had never really comprehended was that Lois would do whatever it took to secure the continued survival of her family, a family she'd never dreamed possible all of those years ago when he landed on her balcony for the first time. She hadn't known how far she was willing to go until they had almost been taken from her once before. Lie, cheat, steal, even kill – Kal-El still didn't know that she'd attempted to kill Luthor aboard the yacht, tried to murder him in cold blood while he stood with his back to her, unarmed, wearing a bathrobe and brushing his teeth.

And she knew it would only make matters worse for him to know that she wouldn't have felt the slightest trace of guilt if she had accomplished it, either. It was a cold-blooded thing to say, and she wondered if she'd truly have that goal questioned on this quest, but it felt like honest truth. Especially when her mind remembered the way Kala, just a little kid back then, had looked over to catch her eye when Luthor was forcing her into the plane. The fear and pain in her gaze, crying out for Mommy to save her and Jason. If she had just done it then, none of this would have happened. And now, because she hadn't been watching, the bastard had her daughter again.

No, this time was going to pay for all, no matter what it cost her. He wasn't going to do this to them again. She wasn't going to chase the ghosts of their past forever.

…

Sebast stared into the bathroom mirror, contemplating his reflection: a handsome face with haunted eyes. His life just wasn't the same without Kala. They talked every day; hell, he saw her more often than he'd seen some of the guys he dated. And not being able to pick up the phone and just call her … Sebast felt cut adrift. How could he have been so stupid as to say something like that to her? He couldn't help feeling personally responsible for Kala running away.

If only he hadn't believed Giselle … and as it turned out, Giselle had been setting them all up from the beginning. _I shouldn't have listened to her,_ he thought. _I should've known she was a liar._ Never mind that the adults had all been fooled; like all teenagers, Sebast figured he was a little more in-touch with things than the rest of the world.

Kala was his best friend, his partner in crime, his platonic soul mate. She was also the girl that his parents kept hoping would 'straighten him out', but Sebast trusted her not to try something that insulting. He had reason to trust her, after all.

His hopeful parents had allowed her to spend the night, in the spare bedroom, and her parents hadn't objected – he was allowed to sleep over at her house, too. In the Lane-Kents' apartment, Sebast normally slept on the couch, but he spent plenty of time ensconced in her room, listening to music or watching old movies while the two of them sprawled companionably on her bed.

Once, they'd fallen asleep like that, after hours of studying followed by a vain attempt at a Godzilla movie marathon. Somewhere in the middle of _Godzilla vs. SpaceGodzilla_, they had both lost the battle with boredom. Sebast woke up hours later to find himself snuggled up with Kala, her head on his shoulder, her leg wrapped around his knee. Somehow in their sleep, they were even holding hands. Bemused, Sebast had chuckled, "I fell asleep during a monster movie and woke up in a freakin' rom-com. What the hell, _mi_ Kala?"

Her eyeliner slightly blurry with sleep, she had given a soft snort of amusement before scoffing to him. "Well, good morning to you, too. I think we both know that most guys would _kill_ to be in your position."

"Hey, plenty of guys would kill to be in _your_ position, too," Sebast had informed her just as saucily, and they had both broken up laughing. There was no one else he could have been as comfortable waking up with. Kala loved him for who he was, had no designs on him and no ulterior motive, and he loved her for it.

And now he'd betrayed her.

Sebast rubbed his face briskly, trying to ignoring the stinging of his eyes. Helping Jason sneak onto the plane was the only way he could think of to try to atone for his mistake. The boy made a convincing argument, and hopefully his parents wouldn't kill him for stowing away.

The plan, which they'd refined since arriving at the Troupe house, called for Nick to pick up Sebast and Elise at nine. Sebast would get out of the car and sneak back into the house, where he would climb in Jason's bed. Jason would go out and hide in the plane. Sebast was the same size and hair color, so even if Lucy checked on him during the night, she would assume that he was Jason. Richard and Lana were leaving very early in the morning, so Jason would be saying his goodbyes tonight.

It was the best plan they could come up with on short notice, and Sebast hoped it would work. But there was one thing he could do to make the ruse a little more believable…

…

Well, _that_ had been awkward. Kala lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Finding out that her father had been the one to crush Zod's hand – "He meant to instruct me fully in my newfound vulnerability," the General had told her dryly – had slightly shaken her image of him. After all, Superman was the hero who took scrupulous care not to harm his enemies unnecessarily. Only against a robot or some kind of monster, something nonliving or at least non-sentient, did he unleash his full strength. And here was evidence that he'd intentionally caused harm.

Kala wasn't a fool; Zod might have been lying to her in an attempt to gain her sympathy and tarnish her father's image. But he had spoken of the incident distantly and quickly changed the subject, insisting that Kala get something to eat and take a break from their lessons. She had taken the opportunity to leave with some of her dignity intact, and had grabbed food to go from the cafeteria.

Apparently, the word had gotten out that Kala was not to be messed with. She got plenty of nasty looks, but no one spoke to her, and none of the thugs even tried to lay a hand on her. That was fine by Kala; she met their glares with an icy, superior stare, reminding herself that she was fast enough to kick five of their asses before the first guy could land a blow.

She had eaten in her room and put the tray outside her door; let one of Luthor's lackeys clean up. With her meal settling – she'd barely tasted the food – Kala contemplated what Zod had told her. She felt slightly ashamed that she could have imagined her mother trading her to Luthor. No matter how bad things were between them, Lois loved both her children, and she'd fight to the death before handing either one of them over to someone like Luthor. It was just like Luthor to try and make her think that, though.

It was kind of odd to be comforted by _Zod_. He didn't seem to have much to gain by trying to repair her relationship with her mother, besides attempting to ingratiate himself to Kala. And he couldn't have known Lois very well. Neither parent was willing to talk about it in depth to the kids, but Kala knew that the Kryptonian villains had captured Lois and used her as bait, threatening her life to make Kal-El acquiesce to their demands.

Maybe that had been the reason for the unaccustomed violence. Lois had always glossed over the story, but Kala had the feeling that she'd been in much more danger than even the printed articles alluded to. Had they actually hurt her, instead of just threatening? And what exactly had been threatened? Dad breaking Zod's hand was wrong, but Zod threatening Lois was wrong first. Besides, Mom was pregnant, but no one had known it at the time.

Kala shook her head; it was a deeper puzzle than she thought she could solve. All of it had happened when she was still just a couple of cells, and she wasn't naïve enough to imagine she could get a fair and balanced report of what had happened from Zod. She had to base her opinions and actions on what was happening now.

After all, Zod might have changed. He'd been in prison for sixteen years…

Kala tried to imagine that. While she lived her life, learned to walk and talk, lost her baby teeth and fell off her bike, had her first kiss and her first breakup, went from an infant to a child to a teenager, all that time Zod had been in jail. Everyone he knew was dead, or as good as dead – Non was in a special facility somewhere, pumped full of happy drugs, and Ursa had been killed trying to escape prison. Zod alone remained, and when he finally got out, he had found himself in another kind of prison, with Luthor as his jailer.

That sucked.

But what else could have happened? The kinds of crimes he'd committed weren't things that could easily be rehabilitated. Robbing a convenience store or vandalizing someone's car was one thing. Genocide and hostile takeover of an entire _country_ – on his way to taking over the whole _planet_ – was something else entirely. Even now, could she really say that Zod had changed?

He seemed like a different man than the one she'd seen in clips from old television shows, a lot more urbane and respectful than the maniac demanding obeisance. Then again, she had Luthor and his prison scum to compare him to, and just about anyone would look good next to them.

Still, as near as Kala could tell, Zod had been completely honest with her. And what he said he wanted was not only very plausible, but it jibed with what she needed: escape from Luthor. For that, she'd be more than willing to put in a good word with her father. Kal-El had had sixteen years to cool off, maybe he could judge whether or not Zod had truly reformed.

And if he hadn't, he'd go back to prison. She only needed to suggest leniency to her father, and her word alone wouldn't guarantee Zod's freedom, not even if he helped get her out of Luthor's clutches. She could discharge her obligation without double-crossing Zod or worrying about the fate of the world…

Kala sighed heavily. This was too much for her to worry about and too far in the future. Only the present mattered; she could figure out what to do after they'd escaped once she had _actually_ gotten free. For now, she had to keep a watchful eye on Zod. He was her best chance as an ally, but she knew she couldn't trust him.

…

Jason was miserable, and Elise knew it. He was sitting in the middle of the bed, staring morosely down at his shoes. If this plan didn't work, his chances of getting to Nevada were too slim to calculate.

The three kids had retreated here as soon as they got to the Troupes' house; they all knew the layout, and Jason had figured out which room he need to have to be able to sneak Sebast in later on. Richard, Lana, and Kristin were getting the guest bedroom; Nora, Joanna, and Michelle each had their own rooms; and Loueen and Bryan were staying in what had been Sam's room. Jason could have taken the sofa, but that made him a little too obvious. Instead, he'd taken what had been the family room when he and Kala had lived here.

Three years ago, Lucy and Ron had converted it into a bedroom for Ella. The downstairs bathroom was right beside it, and adding a door between them had made this room a convenient suite right in the heart of the house. No mother-in-law suite off to the side somewhere for Ella; she had been mere steps from the living room and the kitchen, within hearing distance of the stairs in case she called out at night. Elise thought that was a testament to how much Ron Troupe loved his mother-in-law.

Ella's room had been cleaned out, most of her personal belongings distributed between her daughters, but the bed and the little couch beneath the window remained. Taking this room was integral to the plan, as it was the easiest way for Sebast to sneak in – the window was low, and out of sight of the driveway where a patrol car was already parked. Jason had told Sebast exactly where to get out of Nick's car and which bushes would provide concealment between the road and the window. After all, he and Kala had played hide-and-seek on this property many times.

Those memories, which he'd had to call up in the course of their plotting, were depressing in light of the circumstances. Night would soon fall on the third day of Kala's absence, and none of them had any real assurance that she was okay. Jason insisted she was fine, but she needed him, and Elise was inclined to believe him on both counts. She had seen too many examples of the symbiotic relationship between the twins not to take him seriously.

And with those thoughts uppermost in his mind, to come to the room where his beloved Nana had lived for the last three years before her untimely and recent death … yeah, Jason had a right to be morose. Elise sat down next to him and took his hand, squeezing his fingers lightly as she tried to think of something to say.

The look he turned on her was so bleak that any comforting words would sound like mockery. "Oh, Jason," Elise sighed, her heart aching for him. He could be as obtuse as any boy, he was distressingly single-minded about certain things, and his whole family gave off a distinctive Not Normal vibe, but she'd never doubted he was a sensitive soul. And his sister being gone was clearly killing him; the hollow grief in those blue eyes was searing in its frankness.

Elise could do nothing but hug him, and after a second's hesitation Jason put his arms around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. He shuddered once, but wouldn't cry, though she would have considered tears fully justified. Any girl, even Kala, would have let the tears fall, but boys could be so stupidly macho sometimes.

Strangely, she found herself sniffling, as if she could somehow cry _for_ him. Her whole life had been turned upside down, too; no matter how often you heard about it on the news, kidnappings just didn't happen to kids you _knew_. It was always some other kid in some other city, and you felt sorry for them and their families, but _your_ friends were supposed to be safe. Because you knew them, you knew the funny face Kala always made while she painted her toenails, you knew she was like a magpie for anything velvet, and this _couldn't_ happen to her, because you knew she was real and all those kids on TV and missing posters at Wal-Mart, those kids weren't really real.

Only, it was real, all of it, and Elise was living it. Not only was her friend missing, but the rest of them had been threatened, too. People she knew and liked had been shot at and stabbed. The illusion of safety in her normal daily life was just _gone_. True, the adults were being very sane and sensible about it all, taking precautions, but Elise had just had it brought home to her in a too-concrete manner that bad things could happen to people she knew – or to her.

And yet, somehow, she still felt a little safe, because she was with Jason.

She pulled away a bit, smiling at her own foolishness, and Jason looked as though the hug had helped him. That awful emptiness was gone from his eyes, anyway, and Elise was glad to have banished it. "Thank you," he said, his voice husky with suppressed emotion.

The bathroom door opened then, and Sebast walked into the room. Elise started to pull further away from Jason, but she froze at the sight of Sebast. Beside her, Jason's jaw dropped open, and Elise yelped, "Oh my _God_, what did you do to your _hair_?!"

…

Bryan, Michelle, and Kristin were currently in Michelle's room, playing in an unusually subdued manner. It was clear that all of the worry and strain on the adults was starting to get to the children, as well. Lana gave the kids a worried little frown as she pulled Lucy and Loueen aside into the kitchen for a few words. "We've got a pilot for you tomorrow," she began, and they both gave her quizzical looks.

"Yeah, I know," Loueen said slowly, raising her eyebrows. "Isn't his name Richard? I think we've met him a couple of times, Lana."

Realizing she had gone about that backwards, the redhead sighed. "About that. We wanted to tell you earlier; but we couldn't, for obvious reasons. Richard and I aren't going to Smallville."

This news stunned Loueen, but Lucy was catching on quickly. Her tone was one of awe and amazement. "Oh my God. You're going after Lois and Clark, aren't you?"

Taking a deep breath, Lana nodded. "Yes. They're going to need us."

"Are you _nuts_? Haven't you been through enough for the moment? You haven't even been out of the hospital six hours yet," Loueen hissed, the Voice of Reason. "Lana, they're going up against _Luthor._"

"I know," the redhead replied. "And the way things have been between them, it will take him about five minutes to split them up and kill them both. He's had spies in the family; he _knows_ how tense things are right now. He might not even have to do anything – I've never seen Clark this angry, and I've known him since he was three. If they turn their backs on each other, and they're out of Superman's sight, Luthor will have them both. And I won't allow that."

"And what are _you_ gonna do about it?" Loueen challenged. "Lana, hon, we love you, but come on. You're a designer, not a ninja or something."

"I am the only person in this family who will take Lois _and_ Clark to task, and have them both listen to me," Lana said sternly. "I understand what you're saying, and I know what I'm doing here. But you have to realize something."

She paused, and Lucy bit her lip worriedly as the redhead continued. "I am willing to risk my life for them. I'm willing to _lose_ my life if it's in the cause of getting Kala home. I came very close to dying just by being part of the family. I can't be in any more danger than I was yesterday, and this way, I'm _doing_ something about it. Lois and Clark need me, whether they know it or not, and they need Richard for much the same reasons. They have to work together, and I don't think they can do it on their own for much more than a day."

"You're right about them," Lucy whispered, fidgeting and feeling utterly disloyal. "Things are bad for him to yell at her like he did this morning. I hate seeing them fight … but even more, I hate thinking I might never see my sister and brother-in-law again, or my niece. If they're like that in Nevada, how can they possibly find Kala and bring her home?"

"That's why Richard and I have to go." Lana fell silent for a moment; she had prayed over this decision, but hadn't received any sort of sign to cease and desist. Then again, she also hadn't received a clear sign telling her to go ahead. Regardless, this was what she felt she had to do, and she'd made her peace with the fact that it might be her last decisive act. The last day had brought Lana to a much closer understanding of her own mortality, and she was determined to do everything in her power to rescue Kala.

Richard felt just as strongly. He had known Kala even before Clark did, and she was still his daughter. Biological paternity was nothing compared to three years of bedtime stories, kissed boo-boos, and constant vigilance against the twins' fragile health. Richard would strangle Luthor with his bare hands if he could manage it, or leap in front of a sniper's bullet to save Kala just as easily as he'd done to spare Lana. Though he wasn't quite as spiritual about it as Lana herself, he knew better than most that love was about self-sacrifice. He had given up Lois, whom he'd been ready to marry, out of love for her and the twins, because he saw that their lives would be better with Clark.

Lana had never told him that that single act of selfless nobility overcame all of her reservations about leaping into a relationship as quickly as they had. Whenever she'd worried that things were moving too fast, or that she might be let down as she had been before, she had remembered not only that he had risked his life to protect Lois, but had loved her enough to let her go afterward.

And having known that charismatic, exasperating, contrary, unladylike, fiery, and oddly vulnerable woman for the last ten years, Lana couldn't help but love her as well. Lois was like the sister she'd never had, and then some. They were stepmoms to each other's children, old flames of each other's husbands, and everything but rivals. Gripped by the worst pain she'd ever known, Lana had sent her husband out of the delivery room and called for the woman she'd spent the past several months alternately being paranoid about and apologizing to. Lois had held her hands and coached her through Kristin's birth, which had been every bit as agonizing as Lana's worst imaginings, and she'd held the tiny infant while Lana recovered. Lois' understanding and forgiveness had been gifts as miraculous as Kristin herself.

As for Clark, Lana had always loved him. He had been her friend first, then devoted follower, and after a long absence and the shattering of an old secret, they'd become friends again. They shared so much history that closeness was inevitable, and there was quite literally nothing she wouldn't do for him. The fact that he was a superhero didn't even enter into the equation; the Clark that Lana knew would have found some way to serve humanity even if he'd had no powers beyond his very human heart and soul.

Flying out to Nevada to rescue them both from their personal demons – saving their marriage and their daughter at the same time, most likely – wasn't something Lois or Clark would ever have asked of Lana and Richard. But it was what they wanted, _needed_, to do.

Evidently Loueen and Lucy saw those thoughts in Lana's expression, because they both nodded. "All right," Loueen said. "I don't like it, but I get it. And I suppose everyone else will get used to it."

"They'll have to," Lana replied. "Richard's having the seaplane taxied over here tonight. We'll be leaving at dawn, just before all of you, and hopefully we'll be airborne before Maggie gets wind of it."

"You'd better be, or she'll have you arrested for _something_," Loueen said.

…

Jason was profoundly grateful for Elise's uncomplicated show of affection. He _needed_ a hug, dammit, and neither Mom nor Kala had been around to provide it. That line of thought would set off the tears he was trying to hold back, however.

Sebast provided a welcome distraction by walking into the room. Jason and Elise both looked up, ready to explain away their closeness, but both of them were immediately distracted by the change in Sebast's appearance.

Jason echoed Elise's yelp with a muttered, "Holy crap, Sebast."

Normally the Latino boy had long, straight black hair, a feature that plenty of girls at school obsessed over in vain. At the moment, it was a lot shorter. He put down the pair of scissors he'd filched from somewhere, and fluffed the fresh haircut. "So what do you think?"

"I think it's a helluva time for a makeover," Elise said acidly.

"No, really?" Sebast snarked back. "Because I didn't cut it to be fashionable. I'm gonna be standing in for Jason, right? What if Mrs. Troupe opens the door and takes more than a quick glance at me? She'd notice if Jason suddenly grew like an extra foot of hair."

That gave Elise pause. It was actually kind of brilliant, considering that the two boys had about the same color hair. Jason examined the haircut with a frown. "It looks kinda … weird on you."

"Don't worry, it feels weirder than it looks. As soon as Kala is home I'll be rubbing Miracle-Gro on my scalp every night." Sebast rubbed the back of his head, a distressed expression on his face.

Elise had to look away to conceal her smile. If anyone ever doubted that Sebast adored Kala, that he was her best friend in the whole wide world, this proved it. The boy was rather vain about his hair, and that he'd been willing to sacrifice it just to give Jason a better chance of being in on the rescue… Well, if that didn't prove his loyalty to the twins, nothing would.

Now the only thing that worried Elise was just how Jason would be able to cope when he got to Nevada. Richard was a fairly permissive dad, but Lana was strict, and neither of them was going to be at all happy about Jason tagging along. Lois and Clark weren't going to be happy, either. She could just envision the poor boy lectured and scolded and browbeaten into taking a plane home the very same day. He was stubborn, damn determined when he got his mind set on something, but could he really hold out against all four of his parents?

…

Lois was unusually quiet and subdued at his side, and perversely, that focused his attention on her even more. His mind was filled with what he'd heard while she was out of the house earlier. Only a fragment, but the words haunted him now that he realized where she'd gone.

Sure, she may have stopped for cigarettes on the way back, but her heartbeat had been at the cemetery. And what he'd heard when he checked up on her – afraid she was betraying him even then – was Lois speaking aloud to her parents. "…I tried to keep them safe, just like you would, Momma, but it blew up in my face. I guess maybe _you_ were right about me all along, huh, General? Some 'great mom' I am…" Her voice had been a curious mixture of defeat, sorrow, and anger.

There was something infinitely sad about how sharp her tone had gotten when she addressed her father's headstone. Even so many years later, she was _still_ justifying herself to him. And still doubting herself as a parent.

A small part of him wanted to hug her and comfort her, knowing her too well not to empathize with her pain. The rest of him was still furious. She had crossed the one line he thought was absolutely, utterly beyond any hope of redemption. It wasn't so much the lie – ironically, he was unsurprised by Lois lying to him, after the way things had been when he returned to the planet – as it was the fact that she'd cut a deal with his worst enemy, and then lied about _that_. It was crucial information, as important as the fact of the twins' parentage, and though she'd eventually told him he was a father, he had no real proof that she would ever have told him about the deal with Luthor, no matter what she'd said she meant to do.

Clark forced his internal struggle deep down inside, leaving it to simmer. There were more important things to deal with. Namely, finding their daughter and liberating her from Luthor's clutches. But first, he had to make sure that the bald maniac couldn't strike out at anyone else he loved.

"Lois," he said, his voice low, and she looked up at him with watchful eyes. The hesitance, almost distrustful, in her expression wounded him, but he hardened his heart against that, too. _Duty first._ "We have to make a stop along the way, and we're going to need to make some calls." With that, he adjusted course for the Fortress, where he would have to pick up a few items, already thinking of the JLA members he should call first to invite them to this impromptu meeting: Bruce and Diana. If anyone could understand what he was about to do and why, it would be them.


	33. Yesterday, Upon A Stair

**Yes, it's that time again. After three weeks of weeding, plotting, and planning, your evil author-types are back and showing the fruits of of our labor. MWAHAHAHAHA! ;) Now, after this week, the next post date is the 19th of this month according to the new schedule. See you here then. Enjoy!**

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As promised, Nick showed up precisely on time to pick up Elise and Sebast, and Lucy showed them out, giving both kids an extra hug and admonishing Nick to drive carefully. There was enough madness going on without adding an auto accident to the roster. Both Elise and Sebast said silent thanks that Ms. Troupe hadn't shown any suspicion at their driver. It occurred to them that the plot could have been blown right then had Lucy not been distracted by the last few days' events. All things considered, most of the family would find it pretty odd that they'd get a ride with someone they wanted to cut to ribbons only hours ago. Also, she paid no attention to the way Sebast had drawn up the hood of his jacket so it covered his freshly cut hair; the night was cold enough to warrant it.

The two teens slid into the backseat of the car gratefully and Nick headed down the driveway slowly, waving to the officer in the patrol car across the street. Once they were out of sight of the house, the two teenagers glanced at each other and exhaled their held breath. So far their luck was holding out. "You ready?" Nick asked, looking at them in the rear view mirror.

Sebast was looking out the back window now, taking in their surroundings. "Yeah, just about." He would only have a few moments when the car was out of sight of both police officers stationed in the area, and Nick couldn't slow down too much without raising suspicion. So the Latino boy looked for his mark intently, not really paying attention to anything else.

Until Elise startled everyone by saying into the tense darkness of the car, "I'm coming with you."

For a moment, neither boy spoke in disbelief, the silence becoming deafening again. And then Sebast gave her a mystified look, scorn hiding his obvious worry. It was bad enough that he was going to do this, and knowing full well he was going to get caught. "What? Are you crazy? I'm only doing this so I can stand in for Jason. If you go too we'll only have to hide you under the bed or something. There's no reason for you going in, anyway, so…"

It was what came out of her mouth next that totally threw him for a loop. "I'm going with Jason," Elise said succinctly. Sebast's mouth dropped open in shock, and she hurried to finish. "Look, he's not one hundred percent focused on a _good _day, and he's half out of his mind right now. Do you really think he's gonna be _helpful_ when he gets to Nevada? I can at least keep him halfway on task."

After his initial shock at her presumptuousness, Sebast had to consider that. Jason was something of a dreamer, but once he locked on to something, he could be very determined. "Elise, this is a bad idea. Do you have any idea what you're about to get yourself into? I mean, this is some dangerous shit they're doing. It's bad enough that he's going. And this is assuming Jase even agrees to it."

"Sebast, it's his sister. And everyone else is gonna be all wrapped up in trying to find her. They won't be able to keep an eye on him and stop him from … I dunno, stealing a tank and driving it straight up to wherever they have her. He's obsessed."

From the front seat, Nick finally ventured an opinion. "You know, he seems like the type to be a berserker when he gets mind focused on something. Like a bull with a red flag waving under his nose." He sounded thoughtful, even a little guilty. "I mean, Kala told me that her brother was protective, but hell. In this kind of situation, can you blame him? She's probably right."

Elise was happy to accept support from any quarter at that point, and they were fast approaching the drop-off point. "See? Even _he_ backs me up. Come on, Sebast; I _have_ to go."

Looking from her to the window, Sebast wrestled with his conscience. At the heart of it, he was furious that Elise might be able to go while he had to stay here. If anyone in this car deserved to be in on Kala's rescue, it was Sebast. Elise was her friend, but he was her _best _friend. On the other hand, there was no way Elise could be the decoy. And she was a little bit right – maybe more than a bit – about Jason's state of mind. Finally Sebast sighed in resignation. "Fuck it, I can't stop you."

Nick slowed down as they reached the curve in the road. "Good luck," he said, and Elise heard a hitch in his voice. Then she and Sebast were jumping out of the still-moving car, running for the large hedge that would hide them as they made their way back to the Troupe house.

Headlights came toward them from the opposite direction, and they scrambled along the hedge. At the last second before the oncoming car rounded the curve, Sebast and Elise both dove through a gap in the bushes, Elise cursing softly when her jacket caught on a branch. Sebast knocked her flat beside the bushes as the lights swept over the spot they'd been standing a moment ago.

"Okay, you were right, this is really freaking dumb," Elise muttered as they got up and dusted themselves off.

"Tough shit, Thorne. You're stuck with it now," Sebast groused, leading the way stealthily along the hedge. By following Jason's directions, they made it back to the Troupe house without having to duck and cover again. Elise felt like she should have heard the _Mission: Impossible_ theme playing all the way, and hummed a few bars of it very softly. That at least got a reluctant smile from Sebast.

Jason was waiting nervously at the window, and he quickly opened it to help Sebast inside. The sight of Elise shocked him speechless, and he only stared until she hissed, "C'mon, help me!"

"What are you _doing_?" Jason was staring at her as if he had just pulled a three-headed Hydra into the room.

The Latino boy couldn't resist the smug smile he tossed at Elise as he came in behind her. It wasn't like he hadn't said the same thing himself. "Pretending to be a secret agent. And don't you give me that look, _mano_. I couldn't shake her, which means you're stuck with her unless you can make her see sense."

Jason's blue eyes were stormy when he faced down his former girlfriend. "Hell with that, she's staying right here," he retorted with obvious vexation.

"I don't know if it occurred to you, smartass, I can _hear you_," Elise shot back, trying to keep her voice down. Neither spoke for a moment, trading furious glares that said more about the situation than words could. Elise was the one to break it. "And nobody asked you how you felt. Kala wouldn't be cool with you getting yourself killed in the desert, right? So I'm going with you, like it or lump it."

"No, you're not." Jason was adamant, and Elise was already getting wound up to give a terse response. But before he could continue berating her, there came a knock at the door.

All three kids stared at each other, wide-eyed. This room having originally been a living room, it had no closet, and the bathroom wasn't a safe place to hide when anyone in the house might need to use it at any time. There was only one spot, and Sebast and Elise both dropped to the floor and scrambled under the bed at the same moment. Jason, meanwhile, bought them a few seconds by going to the door and opening it. "Yes?" he asked with what he hoped was innocent nonchalance.

…

Of all the things Bruce expected to happen today, Clark arriving at the Watchtower – with Lois beside him, wide-eyed from the flight – was the _least_ probable. He and Diana went to meet Clark, neither of them entirely certain what was going on.

It was bad, whatever it was. Lois Lane looked defeated for the first time in her life, and Bruce had been interviewed by her. She wasn't easily cowed, and she had a force of personality that Bruce truly admired. In their interview, she'd been completely unimpressed by his playboy persona, though amused by his flirting.

That had been years before she married Clark. When the JLA was formed, Lois had been more than willing to use her clout in the news world to keep the heroes' identities secret – but she'd had to know _who_ she was protecting. When she found out that Batman was actually Bruce Wayne, she'd laughed out loud, telling him that her opinion of him had just improved about five hundred percent.

The snarky, sharp-witted woman he knew had to have had experienced some sort of major emotional upheaval to look as haunted as she was. Other than a briefly sullen expression at the sight of him and Diana, Lois' typically animated face was carefully blank. Bruce found that he didn't like to see her with shuttered eyes.

J'onn, Dinah, and several of the others had arrived, and Clark was being high-handed as only he could. "This is a personal matter, and I don't want any of you involved," he told them.

Dinah's eyebrows shot up, but Diana spoke before anyone else could. "As I told you before, we are your _friends_. Let us help you."

Bruce saw an interesting thing, then. Diana had touched Clark's arm lightly when she spoke, underscoring her words, but Lois' hazel eyes sparked with anger at that slight contact. It was part of the Batman mystique to know everything about everyone, every well-hidden little secret, and Bruce knew perfectly well that Diana admired Clark.

He also knew that Clark was faithful to his wife, and either ignored or didn't see the way any other woman looked at him. Apparently Lois wasn't so certain, but then, she was too close to the situation to be objective. And Clark didn't see the look in _her_ eyes, either.

"I can't," Clark was telling Diana, and beneath his level voice was a fierceness that made her draw back slightly. "Luthor has my daughter. He's already tried to kill my friends, and explicitly threatened everyone I love. He hasn't hurt Kala yet, but if I involve you, he will."

"If you don't like the rules, change the game," Diana said. All of them had faced many situations in which their opponents tried to force them to choose between one thing and the other, and it was never good to let the villain dictate the terms. She and Clark were both usually very good at it, although Bruce allowed that their powers might have something to do with that.

"Not this time," Clark said, shaking his head. "He has my _daughter_. I won't risk her. And don't say he won't kill the hostage because that leaves him with no leverage. He _wouldn't_ kill her. That would be too easy, and too quick, for him."

Lois looked a little green at those words, but she was a reporter. She'd been a hostage before, and she knew what could happen. It was just the thought of it happening to her child that sickened her. Bruce, for all that his kids were adopted, knew precisely how she felt.

"I only came to keep you apprised of the situation," Clark was saying, "and to ask one favor of you. If you want to help us, then please, keep an eye on the rest of my family. Most of them are going to be in Smallville by this evening. Luthor isn't above murdering someone I care about just to distract me."

"We can do that," Bruce said quietly, forestalling all objections with a quick glance to the others. After all, he hadn't actually agreed to stay out of the situation with Luthor as Clark had asked.

…

Kristin wasn't sure why her parents wanted to talk to her and Jason together, but it probably wasn't good. Not much was, at the moment. She held tightly to her mother's hand as the three of them went to his room. Lana knocked, and Jason opened the door, looking a little scared. "We need to talk to you," Mom was saying.

"About what?" Jason asked, leaning against the door frame. Her big brother was acting weird. It didn't take much to know something was up, and Kristin looked at him curiously, trying to figure out what it was.

"Tomorrow morning," Richard said, and Jason looked startled, then relieved. Wow, her big brother was all kinds of weird today – but with Kala gone, that was no surprise. Kristin's life had been turned so upside down in the last few days that nothing surprised her, though.

"Okay." He walked away from the door then, going to sit gingerly on the bed. Kristin hopped up alongside him, and he winced slightly when she did. She didn't know that the bedsprings could only be a few inches above Sebast's and Elise's faces.

Lana sat down gingerly on the loveseat that had remained in the room, Richard leaning against it beside her. Jason watched them carefully, and Kristin followed his lead. It seemed like he needed the support.

But only a for moment, because Lana had settled herself and was speaking. "I know neither of you are going to like hearing this," she began, "but Richard and I won't be going with you to Smallville tomorrow." She paused, clearly expecting an angry response, or perhaps tearful in Kristin's case. The little girl just slid her small hand into Jason's, her fingers tightening around his as she watched her mother worriedly.

Jason just looked at his stepparents consideringly. He looked almost like he was trying to figure out what Lana wanted him to do – should he be angry or resigned? It made him seem just confused and hesitant.

"We're going to Nevada," Richard said, with an air of waiting for a reaction.

Kristin had heard the grown-ups talking about Nevada when the rest of the family had been together. "Are you gonna go find Big K?" she asked, her voice hushed. That was the only reason they would leave her, and also why she wasn't entirely surprised.

"Yes, sweetheart," Lana said with a reassuring smile. It was clear that the day was wearing on her, but she was trying to look as though all was well. "Find her and bring her home."

It was only when Jason spoke that Kristin saw the mulish way her brother was watching her parents. And she knew that that look, one she didn't see often, meant that Jason was probably about to get himself in trouble. "I want to go with you."

Heaving a frustrated sigh, the redhead got as far as, "Jason, we've already been over this. It's not safe," before Jason cut her off.

"I'd be safer than you would." He raised an eyebrow, giving them a look Kristin knew well. He _always_ did that when he was talking about something that she wasn't supposed to know about. She knew something was up, some kind of secret the adults and older kids were keeping from her, but no one would explain it.

"Jason, you're sixteen," Richard told her brother. "I understand where you're coming from, I really do. But this one's for the grownups, okay?"

Lana added gently, "You're also a little too close to it, emotionally. I'd be worried about someone finding a way to trap you. And sweetheart, we can't lose you, too. If he had both of you…" She trailed off, and Kristin began to get frustrated. Why were they trying to have a conversation over her head, anyway?

"We'll find her," Richard spoke up, stepping forward. "C'mon, we've proven before that he doesn't have a chance against all four of us. Jason, I promise you, we're going to find her." He laid a hand on Jason's shoulder, and looked at him steadily. Then he gave Kristin a smile, and she could feel the corners of her mouth turning up a little. It was hard not to smile back at Daddy, even if he was telling her that he was going away.

Meanwhile Lana continued his argument, her eyes shadowed. "He doesn't get to win, Jason. Not while we can do anything about it. And he knows his time is limited, or he wouldn't have called your father."

"I'm sorry, son, but you have to stay." That was Richard, and his voice was final. Jason sighed heavily and looked down, letting them think he was cowed. Lana rose to kiss his hair, and whispered goodbye.

Richard bent to kiss Kristin's forehead, and the little girl hugged him tight. She had gone quiet again, an unusual state for her, but she knew that arguing against her parents was futile. When they were set on something, they were immovable. Sometimes Clark or Lo-Lo could be wheedled, and if he wasn't completely committed her own daddy was a complete pushover, but when Mommy laid down the law it might as well be carved in stone.

While Lana knelt to hug her, holding the little girl for a long time, Richard turned his attention to Jason. "Promise me you won't try to get to Nevada after we leave tomorrow," he said.

Jason looked up, startled, and seemed flustered for an answer. "Fine. I promise to stay right where I am in the morning – I won't try to sneak out after you leave."

Richard nodded, and held out his hand. "Shake on it." Jason did, slightly mystified, and Richard continued, "Being a man instead of a boy means doing what you know is right, even if it hurts. Sometimes, Jason, that means you have to step aside instead of stepping up."

Jason stood up and hugged Richard, but Kristin saw the guilty expression on his face and wondered about it. He did seem to be giving in a little too easily. She knew how close her big brother and sister were, and how they always looked out for each other. Right now, having her gone must be like a car alarm going off in Jason's head, a constant blare of loss and warning that should have been driving him mad.

"Try to get some sleep," Lana suggested. "You won't have to get up _too_ early, since you're taking a chartered flight, but you don't want to be late."

"I wanna stay with Jason," Kristin said suddenly. After she'd reluctantly let go of her mother, she hovered close to his side, her wide blue eyes worried. Jason was up to something, she could tell, and she wanted to know what it was. Little K thought that he needed her.

Before Jason could begin to form a protest, Lana said, "Okay, sweetheart." Kristin laced her fingers through Jason's again and squeezed, looking from her parents to him. Clearly, she needed the comfort of her brother. And how could he deny her?

"Yeah, you stay with me, Little K," Jason said, hugging her.

"We've got a long flight and not much rest ahead of us," Richard said, stroking Kristin's auburn hair. "We'll get some rest, too." With a few more kisses and suppressed tears, they left. Lana turned at the door to look at Kristin and Jason, studying them for a moment as if engraving their images in her mind, and Kristin met her gaze just as solemnly.

…

After landing in Carson City, Lois and Clark went their separate ways. It was growing dark in spite of the three hours they'd gained by flying west, but they both had some time to search tonight.

He flew out to examine the surrounding area, hoping to spot Luthor's facility. Lois reflected sourly that Luthor had picked a good spot to hide his laboratory. She remembered from her many conversations with Clark that metal deposits in the ground could play havoc with his x-ray vision; the differing densities made it hard for him to discern shapes. And here in Nevada, where the ground was littered with old mines and top-secret military installations, finding Luthor would be even more difficult.

Lois planned to use her own set of special skills. Tax records would have to wait until the morning, since it was growing late, but she could at least get a glimpse at the property rolls. That information was online, and all she needed was some place with free WiFi. The network wouldn't be secure, something that she wouldn't have chanced before, but at least it would be anonymous. And coffee, lots of coffee, preferably cheap coffee. There was no point in paying $4 a cup for the good stuff if she was going to be drinking it by the gallon and too absorbed in her research to taste it.

Settling in at a greasy spoon, Lois started browsing for any of Luthor's known aliases. Any scrap of information might as well be gold, at this point. All the while, she kept herself alert to the fact that Luthor _must_ be expecting them to come after him.

…

No sooner had Richard and Lana closed the door behind them than Jason pressed his ear against the door and closed his eyes in concentration, listening carefully to find out if Richard and Lana suspected him. For Kal, it would have been easy work to pick up any conversation in this neighborhood, but it was extremely difficult to hear much beyond the house itself, and that with intense focus. He was relieved, though, to find Richard's hushed voice easy to find. "I have to admit, he's taking it better than I thought."

Then he heard Lana reply quietly, her tone fond. "He's always had good sense."

A small laugh then, also colored by affection. "Yeah, I think we both know he gets it from Clark."

"And since Kristin's staying with him…" Jason heard Lana trail off.

Richard's tone was still playful, warm. "She'll keep him from trying to sneak away and jump on a railroad car headed west, or something equally heroic."

There was a pause before Lana spoke, her voice sounding suddenly so different that Jason frowned as he tried to place the mood. "That wasn't how I meant to finish that sentence."

Another pause before Dad spoke again, cautious this time. "You just got out of the hospital."

"So be gentle. Just not _too_ gentle." Lana laughed, a low chuckle that made Jason blush furiously, and he hurriedly refocused his attention on the room he was in. Geez, _gross_! _Every time_! Why was it _every_ time he tried to use super-hearing, he ended up horrified out of his mind? Shaking off the mere thought, he made himself concentrate on the boon this could be. At least they would be busy tonight, and not wondering any more about what _he_ was doing.

Which he was going to have to figure out, and fast. Currently, Kristin was staring at him in a considering way, clearly not having totally fallen for his stellar performance. Furthermore, Elise and Sebast were still under the bed, had been for more than fifteen minutes, and were likely ready to kill him. "Hey, Little K," Jason began, snubbing her nose. That usually made her laugh, but not right now. Now she just watched him peculiarly. "Can you keep a secret?"

His little sister tilted her head, considering the question before responding, "Is it a good secret or a bad secret?"

Trying to decide the best way to phrase it, he decided on, "An important secret." That said, he waited for her answer.

Kristin wasn't quite as obnoxiously curious as the twins had been when they were her age, but she still couldn't resist the lure of a secret. She was also pretty good about keeping them, at least when it came to such things as birthday presents.

"Okay," Kristin finally said with a small nod.

Jason knelt down in front of her and whispered, "I'm going to Nevada."

Immediately Kristin's smooth brow furrowed, full of worry. "But Jason! Mommy an' Daddy said no! So did Lo-Lo and Clark. You're gonna get in trouble!"

He had known that she wasn't going to take this too well, but the way her lip quivered hurt him. Reaching out to catch her chin, he got her to look at him in the eye, although hers were somber. Choosing his words carefully, Jason told her, "I'm going anyway, so I can help them. Kala's my twin; I can find her. Remember how we never used to like playing hide and seek because we couldn't win against each other?"

Her nod was slow in coming, but it did come. If one twin was 'it', then the other would be the first one found and out of the game. Her expression fraught, she asked in a plaintive whisper, "Can I come?"

Jason sighed. He knew she would ask if he told her his plans and it hurt to turn her down. There was absolutely no way he'd ever chance her getting hurt; he could only hope she'd understand. "I wish I could bring you, Little K. Kala's mad at a lot of people, but she'd never be mad at you. She loves you too much. But it could be dangerous – there are not-nice people where we're going."

Kristin just pouted up at him. "So how come you get to go?"

He almost laughed with relief. At least there was an easy answer for that one. "Because I'm bigger and stronger, and I can run faster," Jason said regretfully. "I'm sorry."

Elise's voice startled Jason when she finally spoke up, even though he knew she was there in the room. "Besides, he's gonna have some help, although I'll throttle him if I have to do that again." The brunette girl slid out from under the bed, fussing with her hair. "It's a good thing your aunt's a neat freak, or I'd be filthy."

Sebast followed her, his expression making it clear that he thought everyone else's decisions tonight were completely wrong. But he said nothing, just glaring at Jason as Kristin scampered to hug him and Elise.

"Elise, no one said you had to go," Jason sighed, but he couldn't bring himself to say he didn't want her with him. That would be an outright lie. The problem was, he didn't think it was safe for her to come. She would wind up being the only human, besides Mom, and the only person not privy to the family secret.

"I'm going, so deal with it," she scolded, careful to keep her voice down. "Jason, you need someone to keep your head screwed on straight just going to school. If you're gonna do something like this, you _really_ need help. Quit trying to be macho about it."

"I'm not… Fine. Now I see why Dad says that arguing with a woman is impossible." Jason threw up his hands in exasperation. It was getting late, he was getting tired, and he really couldn't think of a good way to discourage her without letting her know his particular qualifications for the search.

Elise just beamed triumphantly. On impulse, she pecked him on the cheek. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Her expression perplexed, Kristin watched their exchange. Before Jason even had a chance to get tongue-tied, the little redhead asked without pretense, "Are you two boyfriend and girlfriend again?"

The three teens answered at the same time. Sebast said, "Yes," Jason said, "No," and Elise said, "Maybe." They looked at each other, Jason's expression amazed and hopeful, and then they desperately tried to suppress their laughter.

When they'd recovered, Kristin still looking perplexed, Jason chuckled, "Man, I needed that."

"You and me both," Sebast agreed before asking, "Okay, Jase, so what's the plan?"

"Give it a little while so everyone has time to settle down, and Elise and I will stow away. Kristin, you'll stay here with Sebast. He's standing in for me, just in case your mom checks to see if I'm here before she leaves."

"Which she will," Sebast interjected. "Mrs. White, she knows what you're thinking before you do. But we can psych her out. It's a good thing I'm pretty light-skinned and you spend some time in the sun, Jason."

Jason turned to Elise then. "It's gonna be a long flight," he warned. "I don't know _how_ long, but probably most of the day. And we'll have to be really quiet whenever they stop for fuel. The cargo compartment isn't well-insulated, so we'll need blankets – there should be some in the chest of drawers."

With that, they fell to planning, including Kristin as much as possible. The more the little girl felt like she was part of the operation, the more likely she was to keep silent when they needed her to.

…

It felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole, but not into a wonderland that anyone but the most detached egghead alien-hater would find fascinating. The longer she was here, the more Kala's sense of time was getting disoriented by the lack of natural light, and the fact that her room had no clocks. She had checked the time when she went out to eat, but realized that she couldn't really tell if it was AM or PM, other than by what type of food was being served in the cafeteria. For that matter, she wasn't exactly sure what _day_ it was. She'd been no more than semi-conscious for a long time after she was kidnapped, and couldn't remember much beyond the foul smell of whatever gas they knocked her out with. There had been injections, checks of her blood pressure and heartbeat, and someone rubbing a cotton swab inside her mouth. The last didn't seem to have any real medical purpose, unlike the rest of her recollections, so Kala wasn't sure whether it had happened or if it was a hallucination.

Regardless, she felt profoundly disconnected, trapped in a world totally opposite of her own. Her life outside these walls seemed so far away. Even though she felt like a crybaby for thinking it, she wanted her brother. If Jason was here, he'd protect her … she wouldn't have to worry about the pros and cons of trusting Zod. She and Jason could stand together against Zod and Luthor and anyone else who wanted to take a shot at them. Hadn't it worked last time, when they were little kids? She would have Jason's back, he would have hers. All of that mess with Giselle wouldn't matter; it hadn't been his fault that he hadn't known.

Or even better would be her father – but if _he_ were here, she wouldn't be, not for more than five minutes. No matter what Luthor had up his sleeve, Kal-El would have gotten her out as fast as possible. By now she would be back home playing with her ferret, calling Sebast on Jason's phone, or maybe talking to Elise. What Sebast had implied in their last phone conversation was such a tiny, stupid thing compared to _this_. Giselle was a freaking spy for Luthor; of _course_ she would spread the worst gossip she could invent. Kala wished she could turn back time just enough to let Sebast apologize for his presumptuousness; if she'd talked to him, she might not have run away from home. Her heart ached to know she might not ever see her best friend again, that things between them would forever end with those hurt feelings. She couldn't think of a time she wanted to hug him and never let go than now.

And Nick. Things were over with Nick before they had ever begun. Kala had to bite her lip again; after all of the trouble she had gotten herself into and how much she liked him, the thought only hurt more. He'd been there at the club when no one else was, he'd heard her sing, he'd told her she really had the potential to achieve her dream. But now, instead of planning how she would become a rock star, she was basically a guinea pig in a madman's lab.

Hell, right now she would've welcomed one of those special Mom-lectures, the ones where Lois crossed her arms and frowned and spoke in that tight, clipped voice of utter disappointment. If Mom would only come in, guns blazing the way she had on the _Gertrude_. Her mother wouldn't give up until she had her free, she was starting to realize now. Mom might fuss and nitpick and yell angry words she wouldn't mean five minutes later, but she'd never abandoned her. Neither she nor Jason.

Just to have Mom burst in, bash Luthor over the head with the butt of her gun, and drag her out by her ear, Kala would have cheerfully sat down on the couch and grinned through an hour of that, complete with the stories from Lois' past that were intended to warn her away from Making the Same Mistakes Mom Did. She would've agreed completely with every one of Mom's annoying assertions that Kala was in over her head, playing with fire, and any other melodramatic metaphor Lois could imagine, and she would've applauded at the end.

That image – giving Mom a standing ovation at the end of one of her scathing lectures in those kind of circumstances– broke Kala down, and she curled up on her bed, face buried in the pillow. For the first time in months, she wanted nothing more than to see her mother.

…

"Let's go," Jason murmured. The house had been quiet for the past half-hour while they plotted, and this was their best chance. Elise was keyed up, gnawing at her lower lip, and her grip on the blankets they'd borrowed left her white-knuckled.

Sebast opened the window for them, and Kristin watched, wide-eyed. Those little blue eyes just looked up at him so woefully, but Jason knew she was trying to be brave. "Love you," she whispered, raising her arms. "Stay safe. Daddy's gonna kill you if you two don't hide real good."

Fighting the urge to both laugh and cry, Jason picked his little sister up and hugged her tight. It was only starting to occur to him now to be a little afraid of what could happen. But holding Little K only made him more determined to bring Kal home to her. "Love you, too, and you take good care of Bagel and Gazeera and the weasel for me, huh?" he said in a voice that was a lot stronger than he felt at the moment. Pulling away, he looked at her with a little smile. "Promise to keep the secret as long as you can? Until Aunt Lucy finds you two?"

Kristin nodded her head seriously, red hair bouncing. "Promise."

His heart tugging at him, Jason kissed her and stole another hug before he handed her over to Elise, who hugged her, too.

Then Jason was standing at the window looking at Sebast. Both boys knew how much the Latino boy wanted to be on that plane. Hell, he was Kala's best friend, almost as close as a brother. And he felt personally responsible for her running away, since he'd been the last one to speak with her. But only one of them could go.

And it had to be Jason. Sebast had lain under the bed staring up at the box spring when Richard had said that being a man sometimes meant stepping aside instead of stepping up. That didn't mean this was _easy_. Down to the last second, he couldn't think of a single thing to say, and finally Jason just hugged him. "I'll find her, Sebast."

"You'd better," the other boy murmured, thumping Jason's back for emphasis.

Elise rolled her eyes at them, hugging Sebast tight. "I'll find her even if he doesn't. She's coming home with us. I promise." Then there was no more time for words; they had to hurry. She followed Jason out of the house and along the back of the property, slinking through the shadows of Mrs. Troupe's lilacs. They had to dash across open space to get to the plane, and both kids stopped to look up at the house. This would be the worst possible time for someone to glance out a window. "There's a light on," Elise hissed, pointing to the second floor.

"It's okay, they're … um … busy," Jason murmured, glad she couldn't see him blushing. That was the guest room, and he highly doubted that Richard or Lana was paying attention to anything going on in the backyard.

With a dubious look from Elise, they ran for it.

…

Luthor glared at the expensive flat-screen monitor in front of him. "How long until we can usurp the satellite transmission and triangulate?" he snapped.

"Not sure," Stanford replied. The geologist's hair had turned almost completely gray in the past ten years, and he had lines around his mouth and eyes that didn't come from smiling. As one of Lex's long-term employees (a rare distinction), he'd wound up overseeing most of the technological aspects of the Nevada complex. The alpha wave tracker was older man's invention, and Stanford hadn't had any input on the improvements over the years, but he was the nearest tech person when Luthor called for an update on its latest refinement.

The device tracked Superman by means of some complicated radiation unique to Kryptonians. Whether it was brain waves or a function of their metabolism, Stanford didn't know. But the alpha waves, as Luthor called them, were harmless and nearly undetectable, serving to mark Superman's location and direction. Luthor counted on it as an early-warning device to accurately predict the hero's arrival.

Everyone knew Superman would find this place eventually, unless Lex managed to kill him first. Some plans toward that goal were already in place, but in typical Luthor fashion, every eventuality was planned for. If and when Superman arrived here, Luthor wanted to know ahead of time, so he could have a hero's welcome waiting for the alien.

Unfortunately for his plans, the facility housed one full-blooded Kryptonian and a half-human hybrid, both of whom were much closer to the device than Superman was. When it was just Zod, Luthor had been able to correct the readings to screen out the General's alpha waves. But with Kala here, the device was completely thrown off. Her alpha waves weren't as strong as a full Kryptonian's, so the tracker kept suggesting she was further away than she actually was. Worse, the interaction of her signal and Zod's played hell with Luthor's equations. For the moment, they could tell by the pattern of interference that Superman was somewhere in the general area, but they had no direction and no accurate distance. He could have been anywhere from a hundred miles away, to a hundred yards, although Stanford guessed that the waves from a Kryptonian with full powers would be noticeable at that proximity.

Luthor did not like to guess, and it made him snappish, another reason for Stanford to talk to him instead of the engineers who were actually working on the problem. After all, he had proven his worth and his loyalty, and that made Luthor less likely to take out his frustrations on Stanford.

Stanford checked the progress notes on the current project, which was hijacking two commercial satellites' signals to rebroadcast the alpha wave search pattern. Hopefully that would give them a better idea of where Superman was at the moment. The engineers assigned to the task knew their boss well enough to keep very detailed notes on their progress.

While he did so, Luthor turned away and brushed his hand across another screen. The touch-sensitive monitor brought up the main menu, and Luthor searched through it pensively. Stanford paid him little attention – but as always, he did keep a tiny bit of his focus on his employer. No one ever ignored the boss completely.

When Luthor started chuckling, Stanford turned to see what was up. "Mercy is always thorough," Luthor murmured. "Keeping me abreast of the situation in Metropolis, even though I'm fairly certain our caped crusader has vacated the premises."

It was always wise to take the opportunity to learn what was on Luthor's mind. "Oh, really?" Stanford said, trying for casual interest. "What's happening there?"

Luthor smiled, and Stanford reflected that he'd seen friendlier grins at the zoo. "We installed a program on the _Daily Planet_ intranet servers. Every time someone searches the archives or the internet for certain terms – among them, my name – it records which terminal did the search, where they went for the next fifteen minutes, and every keystroke they made. And it seems as though the activity has picked up again. Lois Lane's computer was the source of most of the searches; she's been researching information about me for weeks. But now she's stopped all of a sudden, and five different terminals are pulling up the same documents she was."

"So she quit, and passed the project on to someone else?" Stanford asked.

"Or she's traveling, and has to use whatever internet connection she can find," Luthor said. "It's more likely that she's on the move. I can't imagine that she and Superman would be too comfortable around each other, after what I told him, but I wouldn't put it past her to try finding me on her own, in an attempt to get back into his good graces."

With that, he laughed, and the sound was as cold as the desert wind far above them.

…

The moment that daylight journeyed over the horizon, Lucy Troupe was already busy proving that Lois hadn't been the only one to inherit some of their father's personality. She hurried through the house as if it were a barracks; making sure all the last-minute packing was done, all the pets were in their crates, and everyone was getting ready and eating breakfast. Already anxious, the departing members of the family hopped to immediately. As she made her rounds, Lucy tried not to think how odd it felt for everyone to be gathered together in this sort of state of affairs. Usually what brought them together was a holiday like the one just passed, not something this dangerous.

Adding to the unsettled feeling was the absence of her sister and brother-in-law and the hole left by Richard and Lana's departure in the wee hours. She and the kids were going to be forced to leave Ron behind to watch over the paper; he, Perry, and Jimmy keeping an eye out for any strike that Luthor might possibly make from that angle. Everything just felt wrong in Lucy's world and she was afraid it was beginning to show. If Lois had been there, she would have not even tried to hide her snickering. "Oh, that look's familiar; Lucinda's about twenty seconds from stomping her feet and screaming for Dad. You even have you lip pooched out the way you did when you were five."

And said mood was just being enhanced by the fact that Jason and Kristin, two of the most important set of evacuees, had stayed huddled in bed in spite of her first two calls. Well, time to stop being polite. This time, instead of simply opening the door and calling to the pair, Lucy walked in. "C'mon, Jason," his aunt said a trifle testily from the foot of the bed, arms crossed. He'd always been difficult to wake up, but he wasn't usually _this_ much trouble. "Honey, you have to get up."

Jason scrunched up into a little ball, the way he'd slept ever since he was old enough to roll himself over. Kristin looked wide-eyed; she was awake, but for some reason had decided to stay with Jason instead of getting up. When he burrowed his head under the pillow, Lucy's patience gave out. "Rise and shine! Jase, I know that you're a late-riser, but this is too important. I want the both of you up. _Now_." With no further warning, she whipped the sheets off the bed.

When he didn't move, she smacked him on the rump warningly, the way she had when he was a boy. Not too hard, but enough to let him know she meant business. He yelped and jumped up, turning to stare at her…

…and it wasn't Jason, but Sebast dressed in the t-shirt and pajama pants her nephew had worn to bed. Sebast, who had left last night with Elise. It seemed as if she was fighting for air when it occurred to her what was going on here. _We shouldn't have let the kids ride with that Nick,_ Lucy thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach. _They were up to something._ _We all always forget how much he's Lois' son, too. We should have known. _ In the end, all she could manage to say aloud was, "What…?"

Although she knew that the kids had to have planned this, Kala's best friend was obviously at a loss for words. Looking as though he wanted to sink into the mattress, Sebast could only grin guiltily. "Um, hi, Mrs. Troupe." Kristin, meanwhile, was glancing from one to the other; it was clear that she'd been in on this, too.

But if Sebast was here, then… _Tell me he didn't, __**please**__ tell me he didn't…_ Fighting for control, Lucy asked as calmly as she could. "Sebast, _where's Jason_?"

The boy gulped and looked down while muttering the answer. "Heading for Nevada."

Lucy didn't have her sister's vocabulary, but she was a general's daughter, too, and she could curse when it was warranted. Sebast winced more than he had the moment before, quickly moving to cover Kristin's ears.

…

_This was a really, really bad idea,_ Jason thought. He and Elise were huddled in the cargo compartment, hiding behind the suitcases Richard and Lana had packed last night. The cold required them to huddle close together, even wrapped in as many blankets as they could find in Ella's old room, and _that_ was awkward.

At least they could talk while the plane was in flight. When Richard stopped to refuel, which he'd done twice so far, the kids had to be quiet, but the engines drowned out their conversation while they flew. Of course, it wasn't easy figuring out what to talk to your ex about when she was pressed uncomfortably close to you while you both stowed away on a plane to find your kidnapped sister.

One thing occurred to Jason: her answer to Kristin earlier. "So, about this dating thing," he'd said cautiously, and Elise had immediately cut him off with, "I don't want to talk about it."

They'd been silent for a while, until boredom wore on them. Then they talked desultorily about school and their mutual friends, just trying to fill the hours. Jason hadn't heard how long the trip was going to be, but since this was a seaplane and not a jet, it would probably take most of the day.

After exhausting those mundane topics, Jason and Elise fell to discussing how the grownups would react when they got to Nevada. Jason knew he couldn't stay hidden from his father for very long, even if they could somehow get off the plane without Richard or Lana realizing it. He hoped his mother would understand, and maybe Richard; Dad would be furious, and Lana would probably be disappointed in him. That was something he was prepared to suffer, however, to find his sister. Nothing else mattered to him at this point.

Elise shifted position, drawing Jason's attention back to her. They had fallen quiet again, but she couldn't seem to keep still. "Are you okay?" he asked, leaning back to give her more room.

"Fine," the girl replied as casually as she could. But the strain was obvious in her voice and he couldn't miss the tension in her body. She was evidently forcing herself to hold still.

Jason sighed in exasperation. "Elise, come on. What's up? How come you're squirming around like a little kid who has to…" Just then it dawned on him. "Oh."

"Just shut up, Jason," she muttered angrily. "I'll be _fine_. I mean, we can't be in the air much longer, right?"

Jason didn't answer her. He wasn't sure quite where they were, but it seemed as though enough time had passed that they would need to land soon. The question was, would they be arriving in Nevada, where he and Elise could finally get off the plane? Or was it just another refueling stop?


	34. Don't Answer Me

**I have survived yet another Christmas season in retail! Pardon me while I do a happy dance! :D**

**This chapter is a little shorter than we usually do, but we also did four fics this month despite a VERY busy schedule, so I count myself ahead that this guy even got out. After this chapter, we'll be back on our usual schedule (we hope) and you'll have the next chapter next week. It may be another short one, but bear with us. Christmas took a toll on both of us. Look for the second fic for this weekend shortly; I'm just waiting for them to post it at BlueTight's Planet Forums first. :D  
**

**A belated MERRY CHRISTMAS and an early HAPPY NEW YEAR, all! We love you and want only good things for all of our fans and friends in the year to come. I think we all deserve it after last year!**

* * *

Sebast slid as far down in the seat as he could go. Inspector Sawyer wasn't yelling at him, but then, she didn't need to. One withering look, and he was cringing in anticipation of a lecture. But Sawyer didn't lay into him; she led him to her car in total silence, having decided to drive him home herself. Apparently no one trusted him not to light out for Nevada the moment their backs were turned.

Already that morning he'd managed to get bawled out by Lucy Troupe _and_ Loueen White. The lecture was worse because Lucy couldn't reach her sister's mobile phone; she left three messages about the incoming kids before giving up. Even Nora and Joanna looked at Sebast like he'd lost his mind. And then he found out they were handing him off to the cop.

Kala loved her aunt, but Sebast was just a little leery of her. She had that _look_, the one that said she knew every bad thing you'd ever done, and none of it surprised her because she'd seen it all before. Kind of like his mom, but with the added threat of being able to arrest people.

Some people were hot-tempered, and they spouted off when they were mad. Sebast could handle those kinds of people; he was one, and so was Kala. Others got colder as they got angrier, until every word, every glance, had frost on the edge. Sawyer was like that, and it scared the hell out of Sebast because he didn't know anyone who could be so pissed off and so contained at the same time.

Sitting in the passenger seat of her car, Sebast felt like he was in an industrial refrigerator. Sawyer was angry at Richard and Lana and Jason and Elise, too, but _he_ was the one in front of her, so he got to see the fury in her eyes. Oh yeah, whatever she intended to tell his parents was going to get him grounded for a year.

They turned into the driveway of his house after what felt like an age, and Sawyer put the car in park. She made no move to get out, and Sebast began to hope that she wasn't going to talk to his parents. Slowly, so as not to seem too presumptuous, he opened his door.

Then she turned to him, and her eyes were icy. Her voice was tightly controlled, soft even, when she said, "For your sake, I hope they both come back in one piece."

Sebast flinched. The fact that Jason and Elise were heading off into actual _danger_ had gotten swept aside by Jason's passionate insistence on finding his sister. Sawyer's reminder was the guilt equivalent of a nuclear warhead, and Sebast scrambled out of her car before she could say anything else to him.

…

"What's our percentage?" Luthor asked, watching the stock prices flicker on his computer screen.

Mercy stood behind him. "Nineteen. And rising. We ought to have another five percentage points by the end of the week, if our man at Eagle Capital Investments will come through for us. When we reach thirty percent, we'll have a controlling interest in the _Daily Planet_."

"I'd like more than that. If we can top fifty percent, we _own_ the paper. I'd like to see White's face when someone tells him."

"We could go that high, but they're on to us. The share price is rising faster than expected, which means the principals are trying to increase their holdings."

Luthor grinned. "Let them try. I've got more money than White."

"The designer's loaded," Mercy warned.

"She's one woman. I've got five capital investment firms dancing to my tune. Besides, according to FAA records, she's busy. She and her husband are heading west."

"They're coming here?" Mercy's tone was plainly disbelieving. By now, the only thing on Richard or Lana's minds should have been burrowing in somewhere safe. Hadn't it been made plain to them that they would be killed if they interfered?

"It could be a ruse," Luthor replied. "The long-distance watchers tell me that most of the family decamped early this morning. There aren't that many places they could go, so I sent someone to check on the Kents in Smallville. Haven't heard back yet, though. Either the younger Whites are trying to confuse us, or they really are coming out here." He chuckled softly at the thought.

Mercy, however, bit her lip. The softest person in the group, their weakest link, had already killed Hope. And now, instead of being frightened away, the family was regrouping and going on the offensive. This was not going to be as easy as they'd planned.

"What about your 'daughter'? Have you gotten through to her yet?" Luthor asked.

"Giselle is still in police custody," Mercy told him. "That Sawyer has taken a personal interest, and is keeping a very close eye on the girl. We'll get to her eventually, though."

"Good," Luthor said. "And since we've saved the best for last, how are Kala's language lessons coming along?"

Mercy shrugged. "Zod has disabled the monitoring devices in his room, but she spent enough time there yesterday to indicate she's actually working on it. The girl is a loose cannon. Too useful to kill, too powerful to harm directly. And she seems to be toeing the line – for now. I'd recommend playing it subtle, leaving her alone for the day and just monitoring her."

"I'll go along with it, but I expect to see some commitment from our young guest." Luthor's eyes gleamed. "After all, she suffers from her father's fatal weakness: she's far too attached to people in her life."

…

"You can open your eyes now," Richard teased. "I'd think after ten years of flying with me, you'd learn to trust my judgment."

Lana cautiously opened one eye and breathed a sigh of relief before replying. "Richard, I love you. I trust you. I'm glad that your pilots' association provides a list of water landings in every state, and very grateful that even Utah has them. However, this lake looked _awfully_ short to me."

Whenever she took that too-correct tone with him, Richard started to chuckle. Lana had heard the aphorism about there being no old, bold pilots, and any risky-seeming maneuvers still made her close her eyes and wince. Richard didn't consider himself a bold pilot, though, and if she were totally honest with herself, he really wasn't. He was scrupulous about his preflight checklist, he always double-checked his routes and approaches, and he never flew in dubious conditions.

The landing here _was_ a little short, by her standards anyway. "It's not that bad," Richard told her. "You're just used to landing on Hob's Bay. At least this is still water."

"True. And at least this is our last stop before Reno." Lana stretched, wincing slightly, and was glad that they'd be situated soon. It was getting close to time for another pill. She'd never been a wimp about pain, but the deep throb in her left hand was what her mother used to call the 'crazy-making' kind of pain. It just didn't stop, except with medication.

"Got any brilliant plans for finding Lois and Clark?" Richard was relaxed as usual after a flight, leaning back in his seat, with that gleam in his eyes that she knew so well.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they'll find us before long," Lana replied with a grin. "Clark's going to be absolutely furious."

"_You_ get to talk to him." With that, Richard stood up, and they both made their way out of the plane. Lana went inside with Richard and bought both of them coffee while he paid for the fuel, then talked to him for a bit while he refueled the plane.

It was going to be a few minutes, though, and they had a couple more hours in the air before reaching Reno. "I'll be right back," Lana said, and kissed Richard's cheek before heading around the side of the building. The interior had been scrupulously clean, so hopefully the restrooms would be as well.

Lana reached for the door to the ladies' room, but before she could touch it, it opened. She took a step back, startled, but then the girl leaving the restroom looked up, and Lana felt her heart leap into her throat.

_Elise._

"Oh shit," Elise yelped, then slammed her hand over her mouth when she realized what she'd said and who she'd said it to. It was almost comic – except that Lana was tired, hurting more than she wanted to admit, and now she had to deal with this. She grabbed Elise's arm and headed back to the plane without speaking a word to the girl, her much-praised patience close to boiling over.

Richard did a double-take when he saw the pair, but Lana had done some quick mental calculations, and she knew Elise couldn't be alone. Jason wouldn't have allowed her to go without him. _Someone_ had been in his bed with Kristin this morning; she'd checked right before they left. Jason had inherited both his mother's headstrong, willful ways and his father's stubborn determination, and that was not a combination that would submit meekly to his parents' wishes. However, she intended to make him wish that he had. This was no game; lives were at stake. "Jason Lane Kent, get out here!" Lana snapped.

Richard turned around as the boy climbed out of the plane. Jason moved deliberately, facing them with his head high and defiance written all over his features. But not the surly, ill-tempered defiance that sometimes flared on his twin's face; this was a look that gave Lana pause for its steadiness. It was almost noble…

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Richard was saying, looking from Jason to Elise in disbelief. "Jason, you _promised_ me you wouldn't do this!"

Jason was being unrelentingly obstinate. "I promised you I wouldn't try to get to Nevada after today. I never said anything about hitching a ride."

"Well, I hope you're happy." Richard hung up the fuel pump with a sharp gesture. He didn't often get mad at the kids; he was more often amused by them and always forgiving of their mistakes. But not right now. "Whatever your reasons for coming out here, I guess I can understand, Jason. But you had _no_ right to drag Elise into it. Not least because you've just made _me_ a felon. You know it's against the law to take a minor across state lines without parental permission? And her parents aren't even in the country!"

"I didn't give him a choice," Elise cut in, and Lana shook her arm.

"Then you're more a fool than he is."

"He _needs_ me, he's not right in the head and none of you can even _see_ it, and I wasn't going to let him do this by himself," Elise countered, and that sounded exactly like Lana's own surety that Clark and Lois needed her.

Which, in her present state, only infuriated her more. The kids were probably going to ruin her own argument with Clark. "If you wanted to help him, you should have convinced him to stay home," Lana said coldly.

"No chance of that," Jason said. "You can't get rid of us. We don't have any ID, so you can't put us on a plane. And even if you do, the minute you turn your backs we'll be headed out here again. I'm _going_ to find my sister."

Richard started to speak but was interrupted by a startled yelp and the sudden appearance of Lois and Superman. "Just what do you think you're doing?" he thundered at Jason.

Elise's jaw dropped open. The girl had never seen him up close; she'd been told off-handedly that he was the twins' godfather, and she knew that he was helping search, but she'd never actually been in his presence. And with him in a cape-swirling fury, that presence was immediate and impressive.

And dangerous. Clark had barely noticed her before launching into his son, and Lana met Lois' eyes. Both of them knew he was perilously close to revealing his secret. "I'm going to find my sister," Jason was replying, and hid voice was just as steady.

"You were told to go to Smallville, where you would be _safe_," Superman replied. "This is not a game, Jason – Luthor _will_ kill you if he catches you!"

"Kala's my twin!" Jason was beginning to raise his voice. "I _promised_ her I'd always come rescue her, and _you_ taught me to always keep my promises!"

That was enough; any second now father and son were going to blow their cover, with Elise staring goggle-eyed at them both. But before Lana could speak up, Lois intervened. "Superman, you're absolutely right, and I intend to have words with my son. But I think you might want to go back and get his father for this dressing-down?"

Well said, and Clark finally seemed to notice Elise. "You have a point, Ms. Lane," he said with effort. "But I will inform Mr. Kent of what's going on here during the flight." With that he turned and fixed his blazing eyes on Lana. "Including the Whites turning up in Utah when they were supposed to be in Kansas."

He disappeared, leaving Jason and Elise facing Richard, Lana, and Lois. "This is just wonderful," Lana sighed. "If you'll all excuse me a moment, I need some medication if I'm going to deal with this."

…

The hunter was careful. He had placed his blind at the edge of a field, and camouflaged it with a few boughs of the red cedar trees that formed the windbreak behind him. By his side was a .22 rifle perfect for hunting coyotes, and in the field before him was a remote-controlled predator call that could perfectly imitate an injured rabbit. At the moment, though, the hunter was only using his spotting scope to canvas the area.

The setup looked like any one of several out-of-town hunters presently staying in the Smallville area. Most of them were deer hunters, but coyote made for an interesting change of pace, and there was no limit or season on the predators. The only difference was the fact that the hunter was aiming his powerful spotting scope through a gap in the trees across the field – directly at the Kent farmhouse.

Peering through the scope offered a close-up view of the back porch, where a cute blonde was standing, watching over a gaggle of kids. The hunter tried to get an accurate description, but it wasn't easy. The brisk chill in the air made the kids frisky, and all of them were bundled up. All he could tell was that they seemed to be mostly twelve-year-olds or younger. There were no signs of the teenagers he was supposed to look for, but they might be indoors.

A light tap on his shoulder startled him badly. No one else should have been out here – but then, the elaborate cover ought to fool whatever idiot farmer had just snuck up on an armed hunter. Turning with a friendly smile, the hunter saw only his empty blind. Weird. His mind was playing tricks on him; maybe it was the cold.

Turning back around to look through the scope again, his chin met a gloved fist, and the last thing Luthor's spy saw was a wolfish smile beneath the cowl. "One down," Bruce murmured into his communicator, and dragged the unconscious man away.

…

Lois crossed her arms and stared at Jason, unable to say a single word to him. He'd just proven how very much like _her_ he was, and a small part of her admired his determination and sneaky cleverness. A much larger part was terrified for him, and furious that he'd brought Elise. She was a wonderful girl, and Lois was glad to see the two kids talking again. But the very last thing she wanted was a … well, a _civilian_ in the middle of this war with Luthor.

Jason was standing with his head up, his brow furrowed, and his eyes blazing. He had absolutely no intention of giving in, meeting each of the adults' gazes as they waited for Clark to return. Only with Lois was he anything other than stubbornly defiant; his eyes held a glimmer of pleading.

Well, her sweet boy was about to find out that Mom wasn't a sucker for puppy eyes. "I'd say I can't believe you, Jason, but I can," Lois told him. "And I'm shocked that you of all people didn't _think_ for ten minutes before you pulled off a hare-brained stunt like this."

His jaw dropped; clearly the last thing he expected was for Mom to set herself against him. She didn't have much time to pity him, though, as Clark returned in only moments. He didn't even acknowledge Elise, and gave Jason a scathing look. "You're going home, son."

Jason took a deep breath and said shakily, "No."

"It isn't up for debate, Jason," Clark warned.

"You can't put us on a plane," Elise interjected. "We don't have any ID. And even if you do send us home, we're just going to turn around and come back out here."

"I won't stay out of it," Jason informed them.

"I'll ask Superman to fly you, then, and have your Aunt Maggie put you into protective custody," Clark growled.

"She's too busy to follow me around," Jason said. "And she won't lock me up. Dad, I'm not going."

"You have no right…" Clark began, and his own son cut him off with a flash of the temper that marked him as Lois' child.

"I have every right. She's my sister, and I've saved her before – saved her when no one else could, not even Superman. I promised Kala I'd never leave her, and just because she walked away on her own doesn't negate that promise." When it seemed like Clark was about to interrupt, Jason raised his voice to add, "And I'm not sure you and Mom _can_ find her, the way you've been. You're supposed to be a team, not fighting each other all the time. How are you going to search for Kala if you can barely be civil for more than ten minutes? I'm not just talking about New Year's, either, even though that was a train wreck of a night."

Clark had no answer for that, and Lois saw how taken aback he was by their perceptive child. She hadn't realized either quite how aware Jason was of the problems between them – although New Year's Eve was the most recent and obvious argument, he apparently knew about the estrangement and resentment that had been going on much longer.

Instead of answering the boy, Clark turned to Richard. "Take the kids home, and stay in Smallville where you'll be safe."

Lois caught her breath, and saw Lana doing the same. Clark very rarely gave an order, except as a parent or as part of his position as International Editor, but none of them could doubt the firmness of his tone. And unlike Elise, Richard knew exactly who was ordering him around. Clark had been his idol before the two men were friends, the iconic shield symbol painted on both wings of every plane Richard had ever owned.

Richard crossed his arms, looked the taller man in the eye, and replied simply, "Make me."

That took all of them by surprise. "What?" Clark asked.

"I said 'make me'," Richard told him. "I didn't fly out here to get sent home like an annoying little brother trying to tag along to the movies. I'm here because you need me, whether you know it or not. Jason's got a point – Lana and I both know you two haven't been at your best lately. And while I totally agree that the kids need to go home, the simple fact is, you can't force me to leave."

Of course, Clark _could_ force them to leave; as Superman, he could haul them both to Smallville and dump them there. But what Jason had said was even truer of Richard and Lana. They were adults, and could not be prevented from coming back to Nevada as many times as Clark sent them back.

Poor Clark looked stunned. Though he rarely made demands, he was used to the few commands he gave actually being followed. To be met with such defiance from an old friend as well as his normally obedient son was more than he could handle. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Richard, you've already come too close to getting killed for my comfort. I want you and Lana and the kids safe in Smallville – this is my fight, and Luthor takes no prisoners." Lois shot him a glare; that was too close to revealing the secret!

Richard sighed, and Lois saw the pain in his eyes before he answered. "Clark, my man, it's my fight too. Kala was my daughter before she ever even _met_ you. I'm not going to sit on my thumbs while that maniac has her, so just give it up."

That stung, and everyone winced. Richard had never made an issue of the fact that he'd been the twins' dad before their real father returned to the planet. He'd been noble about the whole thing, a shining example of the heart that beat beneath his irreverent, jocular exterior. In giving up Lois, the man who became the prankster of their group had shown such courage in putting the twins' needs before his own that Superman felt awed by his actions. And he had never, ever called Clark on it, never reminded him even obliquely that he'd failed his obligations as a father.

Until now. And it was plain on his face that to say such a thing to his friend hurt him almost as much as it hurt Clark.

"She was six years old when I met her, and I love her as much as I love Kristin," Lana said quietly. Holding up her bandaged hand, she continued, "I know very well how far Luthor will go. But we'll go farther than he will. She's our child, and he doesn't stand a chance against us. _All_ of us – we made a pretty good team the last time he tried messing with this family, and we weren't even really a family then."

Only Lois noticed the absorbed way Elise looked at each of them. They all tended to downplay the events of ten years ago, the crisis that had forged them into a single family in spite of all the factors against them. It wasn't common for a woman to consider her husband's former crush to be one of her closest friends, or for a man to be perfectly content with his kids calling his wife's ex-fiancé 'Daddy'. The Lane-Kents and the Whites only gave the most superficial explanations for the current situation, not wanting to tread too close to the secrets they kept. Elise had heard only whispers, and what she was seeing now clearly fascinated her. Lois made a mental note to be extra careful about what she said in the future; the girl was just a little too smart for her own good, in this case.

Stymied at last, Clark turned wounded eyes on Lois. The plea in his gaze was clear: he wanted her to bail him out, argue down Richard and Lana and the two kids. On the one hand, it was gratifying to have him turn to her after he'd been cold and formal ever since they left Metropolis; she'd stayed up the entire night working her leads, trying to find any scrap of information she could on Luthor's activities in Nevada, and he had barely even bothered to check in with her.

On the other hand, Lois was worn out, sick of all the fighting and arguing and the relentless tangle of guilt in her heart. She had nothing left to refute Richard's arguments, no razor-sharp wit to send him and Lana and the kids scurrying back to Smallville. And if she were completely honest, she _wanted_ them here – not the kids, but Richard and Lana could insulate her from the worst of Clark's anger. They still seemed to trust her, even if they couldn't support her actions.

She sighed heavily. _How come I have to make all the bad decisions?_ "Screw it. Let them stay; it's easier than trying to ship them home. And they'll be safer where we can keep an eye on them. That _does not_ mean I'm happy with you, Jason Garen."

…

Kala was quickly learning to watch the clock when she went for her language lessons. It was hard, bottling up all her anger and fear so she could still _function_ in her enemies' lair, and these long talks with Zod were a welcome relief. She could get absorbed in Kryptonian history, until the cadence of his voice and the clarity of his description washed away her current circumstances.

And those circumstances were growing less comfortable all the time. At this morning's breakfast, a few of the security guys had cat-called her, making suggestions as to what they'd do to avenge their injured friends. Kala had faced them down with an icy glare, but when they showed up again at lunch, her heart hammered loud enough for Zod to hear it across the compound. The General wasted no time on words; he had merely stared at the offenders until they went away. "Humans," Zod had scoffed.

With him around, Kala had grown confident enough to stalk haughtily through the cafeteria. She had matched her pace to Zod's as they returned to his room. Between the soothing artificial sunlight and the engrossing conversation, the next few hours were golden.

"The ultimate failures of Krypton were arrogance and apathy," Zod said. They had begun discussing recent history, and Kala leaned forward, her eyes bright. "Arrogance, that the Council assumed _nothing_ could shake them from their exalted place in life, that their luxuries and very lives could never be in jeopardy. And apathy, that those in power would rather rest upon their laurels than try to disprove Jor-El's theories. They threatened him to obtain his silence. Von-Dah claimed to have refuted his conclusions, but no one could be bothered to check her equations or his. Her results were more pleasing to the Council, so she was believed and Jor-El was vilified."

"I never thought I would hear _you_ defend him," Kala said, keeping her tone respectful. "This is Jor-El, after all."

Zod leaned back in his chair and looked at her calculatingly. Kala hated it when people gave her that look, the one that said they were trying to figure out if she was smart enough or mature enough to understand what they were about to say. She sat up straighter, put her shoulders back, and met Zod's gaze steadily. _Go on, hit me with your best shot. Just try pulling that 'in a few years you'll understand' bullshit with me._

"This may surprise you," he began, and then added, "or then again, it may not. Your grandfather and I were once close friends. It is because of that friendship, the mutual respect, admiration, and fondness we once shared, that I came to hate him with every fiber of my soul."

Kala considered for a moment. Zod was claiming to hate Jor-El mere moments after essentially saying that the other man could have saved the planet if only the Council had listened to him. "Explain," she suggested.

Zod's eyes grew distant as he answered. "It was Jor-El who discovered the Phantom Zone and the means of entrapping a person within it. And it was he who, when I and my compatriots stood trial, cast the final vote. The Council considered imprisonment in the Phantom Zone to be a momentous thing, equivalent to the death penalty, yet without the stigma of actually taking a life. Therefore they required that a sentence must be unanimous. Every Council member would have had to declare us guilty for the three of us to be cast into that nightmare.

"The rest had spoken. I was unsurprised by their votes; they feared me, rightly. I would have changed their very way of life, uprooted all that they knew, but had I been in command we would have survived the apocalypse. It came at last to Jor-El. He held the final vote. If he said we were not guilty, then we would have been spared. And he alone of all of them knew what the Phantom Zone was. He had been trapped there, briefly, in the discovering of it."

Zod's jaw tightened, his eyes burning with old rage, carefully nursed and hoarded against the onslaught of time. "And yet he still condemned me, his friend, his benefactor. After I used my position to aid him, all unasked; after I alone supported his theories, he sentenced me to eternal living death, and for that I shall never forgive him."


	35. Sticks and Stones

Sorry it's late, all, but it's been that kind of week. Hope the New Year started out well for all of you and will continue to be so. This is the last chapter in Act III and we'll be beginning the next Act, _**Trust**_, when the next chapter is posted the 23rd (yep, long month means only two chapters but also another oneshot or two.) Hope this and _**Wintersong**_ will tide you over until then.

* * *

After yet more heated debate, they had grudgingly agreed that sticking together was now their best option. Lois boarded the plane without a word, and Jason and Elise got to take seats for this leg of the flight. Last aboard was Clark, making no effort to hide his black mood.

From a passenger seat, Elise could actually admire the confident way Richard handled his plane. He wasn't a showoff, just very competent, and soon had them airborne heading west. "You said you checked Carson City?" he asked, raising his voice a little to be heard over the engines.

Lois grimaced slightly, clearly disgusted with her reply. "Yeah. We both came up blank."

"How far south of it did you get?"

This time Clark spoke up, his deep voice brusque. "Gardnerville. Nothing there. Superman checked east toward Artesia Lake, without any results."

The younger man nodded, not pushing more information on purpose. "We were planning to land at Lake Tahoe, anyway. We should spend the night in Gardnerville, since we know it's safe. Well, relatively safe."

The black-haired man bristled at that, narrowing his eyes. His voice was now granite. "I hadn't planned to take the night off."

There was silence in the plane for a long moment, long enough to put everyone on edge. Elise saw Lois close her eyes and draw in a deep breath; it was the expression of a person knowing a punishment was about to be meted out, but unable to take the wait any longer. When her eyes opened, the reporter looked over at her husband. "You need to rest," she murmured in a careful tone that Elise wasn't used to hearing. "Clark, we both stayed up all through last night."

His retort was immediate. "And we've both stayed up three or four days in a row on a story."

"That was also what, ten years ago?" Lana interrupted. "Caffeine and determination won't carry you through as long as they used to. If you go without sleep long enough, you'll make mistakes, and we can't risk that. That's what Luthor wants. What he's expecting. Don't cater to his wishes, Clark." Lois started to say something, then silenced herself with only the slightest glance in Elise's direction. That made the girl wrinkle her brow in wonder. What the hell was going on under the surface in this family?

But any deeper speculation was interrupted by Clark's outburst. "Dammit, how can I sleep when that bastard has my daughter?! This should already be finished and over with. Luthor should be back in prison and Kala should be home with us, safe. Why the hell is this taking so long? Dammit!" He started to thump the armrest of his seat, but caught himself at the last second. His clenched fist and furious eyes made his state of mind all too obvious.

Elise couldn't help but flinch. It was painfully clear that Jason's father was being torn apart over all of this. She'd heard him swear more in the last couple days than ever before, and from the look on Jason's face, the same was true for him. Mr. Kent had always been so mellow, and even when he had to be stern as all fathers occasionally were, he'd never shown any ill-temper. Now, though, the uncertainty surrounding Kala's abduction was gnawing at him, and his outburst shocked everyone. As hard as they were all trying to fight it, if Luthor wanted to drive the family apart, his plan was succeeding with admirable proficiency.

Again, a moment of apprehensive silence echoed through the plane. Lois' eyes were closed again, her jaw tense. She looked to be holding on by a thread. In the end, it was the redhead who turned in her seat and regarded him with a sternness rarely seen in her. "Clark, didn't Kala tell you herself that she was safe, that you were walking into a trap? And don't we have Jason, who knows whenever she so much as skins a knee, sitting there anxious but not outright panicking? Luthor doesn't dare harm her – he knows one of us will kill him if he does. Lois would in a heartbeat, and even Superman might lose his temper where his godchild's concerned. _You're_ in more danger than Kala is right now, and if you're running on fumes when we do find Luthor, he'll be absolutely delighted. We _have_ to keep our wits if we're all going to walk out of this alive."

"She's got a point," Richard put in, jumping in before any protest could be uttered, and then tried for his usual teasing tone with limited success. "Clark, man, don't make us wrestle you into a hotel room and hold you down until you fall asleep. That would be all kinds of awkward." His glance toward the taller man was sympathetic.

It looked for a moment like there would be another argument, but then Elise saw the way that Clark's shoulders sagged. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him; she was pretty sure she'd be a mess if it had been her daughter missing, especially with the situation being what it was. It would drive her crazy, too. She saw him sigh heavily, and run a hand through his black hair. Most of the fury appeared to have drained away for the time being. "You're right," he finally admitted. "I do need to rest. But it just sickens me to think of her…"

With a small smile, Lana reached back to catch his hand with her good one and squeezed. "She is your daughter and Lois'. Kala has courage enough for any five ordinary people. We'll get her back, and she knows that."

But Clark didn't look convinced. For that, neither did Lois before she turned away from all of them to stare out the window.

…

Kay wrote the date and recipient in her usual fluid script, but hesitated at the line for the dollar amount. She'd written checks on Lana's personal account before, for various things – paying bills when the boss was too busy to remember to do so, or gifts for people like the letter carrier and the maintenance staff of the apartment building where Lana lived. She'd even written checks to herself on a few occasions, when Lana wanted to give her a bonus for something that wasn't really part of her job, such as helping arrange Lois' wedding.

Those times, she'd had permission, and the amount had always been small – a few hundred dollars at the most. But this … Lana was either still on the plane or out of cell phone range, so Kay couldn't reach her. And the stockbroker had just called moments ago. If Kay wanted to do this before the close of trading today, she needed to make out the check and run it by his office. Verbal authorization to charge the account wouldn't work; he wanted a physical check, and proof of Kay's power of attorney, to accept such a large payment from anyone other than Lana herself.

The paperwork that established Kay's right to access Lana's accounts was long-standing, the _Daily Planet_'s stock price was soaring, and Vanderworth Holdings was among the companies purchasing large shares, a sure sign of Luthor's intentions. Investing some of Lana's personal funds would help keep the paper out of the hands of its enemies. The only problem was, the stock price was extraordinarily high, and Kay had to write a very large check without so much as _notifying_ her employer.

Lana would fight the takeover with everything she had, Kay was certain of that. The redhead had expressed, in her precise, profanity-free way, how much she despised Luthor, and how obsessed the man was with Superman and his chronicler. He couldn't be allowed to gain a controlling interest in the newspaper that had carried the majority of Superman exclusives over the years and had daringly reported on his crimes. Kay couldn't imagine the kind of revenge he would wreak; firing Lois and Perry and anyone else who had ever crossed him would just be the most obvious way.

This was the right thing to do, Kay knew, even if she had to pay back the funds she was about to use, or worse, lost her job over it. With a sigh, she filled in the line for the amount with her slanting script. _Twenty-five thousand and __NO__/__100__ dollars_.

…

By the time they docked the plane, rented cars, and found a hotel, everyone was out of sorts. Somewhere along the line, Lana had popped a suture and blood had started oozing sluggishly from the cut on her side. All of them had displayed concern when it was discovered, only to be told that she wasn't hurting too badly and they had more important things to do. That pronouncement had received dubious looks all around. In the end, though, the decision was made that they wouldn't take her unless Lois couldn't fix it once they were settled. At the moment she was pressing Lois' red scarf against the wound to staunch the bleeding until they could get into a room. "It's not even a deep cut, we'll put a butterfly bandage on it," she'd protested irritably when Clark tried to suggest once more rushing her to the hospital.

His unending fretting about it went without check, none of the rest of the group willing to rankle the peace that had reigned since Lana and Richard had laid down the law on the plane. That was, until Lois had had enough and snapped before she could stop herself. "Lana's a grown woman, Clark, and it's not that bad, anyway. If she says it's fine, let it go."

That had precipitated a truly furious glare from Clark, and a snide-sounding remark about Lois' mercenary priorities. The strain wearing on her, Lois had lost her temper again and had retorted with a comment about his tendency to make decisions for everyone around him, and he had fired back, "Kind of like you deciding to go ahead and negotiate with Luthor without even _consulting_ anyone else, hmm?" The truce, it seemed from Lois' grief-stricken look, was effectively over.

Before either of them could gear up to say anything more incendiary, it was Jason who, literally, got in between them. "God, enough, already," their son said, his voice rough. They could all see how much all of this was wearing him down, as well. As hard as he attempted to make his voice uncompromising, the quaver of pain was there if you listened carefully. "You're fighting like … like me and Kala, only _worse_, and I'm sick of it. We need to be a team."

His outburst astonished Lois and Clark both enough that they stood still in the hotel parking lot and stared while he finished speaking. "You're both right, and you're both wrong. But you can't keep fighting like this! Kala needs you two to be thinking straight so we can save her."

Seeing his distress, Richard came forward to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He'd known Jason for most of his life; had the boy been six years younger, he would have turned into his Dad's side and burst into frustrated tears. Jason had never been a fan of family disagreements and the last few weeks had been filled with them, the worst of which was the never-ending battle between Lois and Clark. "And that was a lesson on maturity, coming from your sixteen-year-old son," Richard concluded, nailing them both with his gaze. "Hate to say it, but he's got a point."

That had been the breaking point for Lois. No one could miss the wounded way she looked at her husband. Richard knew that look; he'd seen that broken, trapped expression too many times in the last year of their relationship. It was even more painful to see now.

Her heartbreak was clear for all to see only a moment. Then she snapped to, her delicate features a mask. "Fine. I'll meet you inside," she snapped before storming past all of them. Elise had prudently ducked out of her way.

Lana looked after her in distress before turning to see the stormy expression on Clark's face. "So much for maintaining the peace," she sighed, disapproval coloring her words strongly. "Come on. We'll all feel better after a night's rest."

Jason could feel his father's gaze on the back of his neck the entire way to the lobby, a glare colder than the arctic weather at the Fortress. For some reason, adults really hated it when he turned their own arguments against them. His parents, most especially. If they were willing to use his words against him, why shouldn't he turn the tables? And it wasn't as if everyone here wasn't already mad at him, including Mom. He'd hoped she would understand, but apparently she was too caught up in her own problems. Not that it mattered – he was here, a few thousand miles closer to Kala, and he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Whatever happened next paled against that.

His father passed him once they were inside the building, his face set in stern lines when he glanced at the boy. "Tomorrow morning, you and I are going to have a talk," Clark said with icy finality. Jason could already tell that Elise being here would be a large portion of that discussion, and his temerity in upbraiding his parents would make up most of the rest of it. He could only hope that getting some sleep would let his father see just how single-minded and temperamental he was being.

On the far side of the lobby, Lois was in serious conversation with the desk clerk. Although by her tone as they drew close, she was more likely badgering him. And he was more than a little intimidated. "I'm sorry, ma'am, the gemologist's convention is in town. If you had been here last week…"

That just increased her frown, staring at the man as if he was a bug under a microscope. "So the best you can do is three rooms on the same floor?" The man just stared back at her, although his expression was more akin to what you would expect when one was confronted by the Terminator. When that got her nowhere, Lois let out a long, irritated sigh of exasperation. "Fine, I'll take them."

The young man's relief passed over him like a wave. Elise had to fight a laugh; why did she get the feeling that this was going to end up a blog entry at CustomersSuck? "Your name?" the clerk asked, still sounding rattled.

The answer startled all of them, although some more than others. "Sadie Blodgett," was Lois' smooth reply, opening her wallet to reveal a driver's license in that name. Jason managed to conceal his surprise, especially when Lois paid with a credit card in the same name. It had never occurred to him that his mother could possibly have another identity. When they turned from the desk, Lois now in possession of six keycards, he knew that she must have seen the disbelief on his face from the way that she gave an impish smile that was almost a miracle considering the circumstances.

Jason kept quiet until they were on the elevator and out of earshot of the desk clerk before turning a questioning look on his mother. "Mom? What…?"

The light had come back into her eyes then, Lois giving a low, mischievous chuckle. "Sadie? I've had that alias since long before you were born. Hell, your dad was even married to Sadie for a little while back in the day," she told him while passing out room keys. "Sometimes a reporter has to go undercover, and I'm fairly certain that Lex has figured out my current one. Good thing I've kept these up to date, too. Although by rights I should've changed it to Sadie Smith by now." That said, she glanced over at her husband with a fond smile. She wondered if he remembered that.

His response was just the opposite of what she had been hoping for. Clark scoffed under his breath, "Why am I not surprised you still have all your ID showing you're a single woman?" The ding of the elevator doors opening almost hid the words – almost. He didn't even bother to look her way.

Lois' spine stiffened as if she'd been struck, and Richard flinched in anticipation. She had only been trying to lighten the mood and it had backfired epically. But the furious outburst he was expecting never came. In utter silence, posture still ramrod-straight, the raven-haired reporter walked off the elevator and to the nearest of the rooms. Clark followed her immediately, which left Jason and Elise with Richard and Lana. All of them shared an uneasy glance; what would happen next was likely inevitable. "Let's see what the situation is with the other two rooms," the redhead sighed, and headed up the hall.

Once the door was closed behind them, Clark didn't even have the chance to speak before Lois had dropped her bag into a chair and turned to face him. He'd never seen such a maelstrom of emotion on his wife's face, never seen her so fragile when in a rage. "That's it. I can't do it anymore," she said so calmly that it gave him pause. "You've made your feelings absolutely clear about everything that's happened. When all this is over, you can divorce me and be done with it. But for now, Kal-El, we don't have the luxury of fighting." With that, Lois skirted past him out the door and was out of his reach before he could even fully take in her words.

…

Kala had been summoned to Luthor's office to review her progress. She hadn't wanted to try the artificial intelligence again so soon, with only a days' tutelage in Kryptonese, but Mercy Graves had insisted. It hadn't seemed to Kala like she'd achieved much more, which she supposed was the reason for this little visit.

_He's going to try to keep you off balance,_ she told herself. _Don't let him. Stay cool. He can't do anything to you while he still needs you._ In spite of that, her heart was beating a little faster when she opened the door and went in.

Luthor was seated behind the desk, looking at some papers in a file. He looked up with an avid grin, and set the file down so it was open. Kala glanced at it – that might be valuable information…

…or it might be photos from her sixteenth birthday party. She found she couldn't look away, and her stomach lurched as Luthor pushed the top photo aside to reveal another beneath. That one was older, taken as Kala and Jason walked out of their middle school. She could see that there were other photos, a whole stack of them, but Luthor had made his point with just those two clear, well-focused shots.

_He has been watching you all this time, watching and waiting._ What Kala wanted to do was run screaming from the room, tear down the walls of this place, claw her way out if necessary. What she did was remember the arctic ice around the Fortress, how cold and clear and perfect it was. It was damn near impossible to move around on, too slick and hard to gain any purchase. That was how she had to be: like ice. She raised her eyes to Luthor's slowly, and said in her steadiest voice, "Nice pics. Can I get some of those for my Facebook page?"

He only grinned more, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Nice dress in this one. Your stepmother made it for you, right? Just like she made your mother's wedding dress."

"Yeah, she's good like that," Kala said, trying to sound offhanded as she suppressed the desire to punch him. She sat down and stared at Luthor disinterestedly. "So what's this about?"

"You've shown some progress, but I expect to see more improvement," Luthor said evenly. "After all, you _know_ the language. You just have to develop fluency and the proper accent."

"Which I wish I could do overnight, but it just isn't possible," Kala replied. "Believe me, if I could get that information for you right now, I'd do it."

Luthor looked at her intently. "Is that so? You wouldn't feel you were betraying your family, or the rest of the world?"

"The world isn't my problem," Kala said in what she hoped was a convincing tone. "The Giant Floating Head has been pretty adamant that I'm not going into the family business. As for my family, they can take care of themselves against you. They always have. All I want is to get out of here."

He let the silence spin out, waiting for her to fidget or say more, but Kala held herself still and poised, thinking _ice, cold and tough as ice_. After a few moments, Luthor dismissed her with a wave and a curt, "That's all for now."

Kala forced herself to walk out, keeping her sense of triumph bottled up inside. Now she was grateful for that acting class, and all the advice her theater friends had given her. She'd managed to fool Luthor!

Once she was back in her own room, though, her elation quickly faded. Kala was no closer to her goal of escaping, and Luthor had just made it obvious that he could be keeping very close watch over her. She might have fooled him for now, but time was on his side, not hers.

Kala shivered. Even the endless arctic ice would melt under enough heat, as she knew all too well. She paced, trying to think.

The only spot of color in this monochromatic room was the family portrait she'd taken with her when she ran away. All of her stuff had been rifled through, but Luthor hadn't withheld anything from her. At first, she'd thought that leaving the portrait was a conciliatory gesture, meant to convince her that Luthor wasn't really as bad of a guy as she knew him to be. But after talking to Zod, Kala had realized that he must have done it to increase her homesickness. Typical Luthor: what looked like kindness was actually cruelty, the photo a constant reminder of everything she missed.

Everything she'd run away from. Kala couldn't help a bitter laugh at her own foolishness. Sure, Mom had been a complete bitch that night, and Dad and Jason hadn't really helped. But the worst that would have happened was grounding and some lectures. Instead, she was _here_, trying to outwit Lex Luthor just to keep her sanity intact, and afraid she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Kala took the photo down and curled up on the bed, staring at the image of a happier time. Dad was smiling broadly, his arm around Mom's waist, and she was looking over her shoulder at him lovingly. Jason had a big goofy grin on his face, and Kala herself looked delighted. Much of the amusement was due to the fact that Lois had allowed for one – and only one – 'outtake' picture, where the kids could make silly faces. Uncle Jimmy had laughed hard enough at the results to make Kala and Jason proud of their efforts.

She felt the wetness on her cheek before she even knew she had started to cry. Angrily, Kala scrubbed the tears away. This was just what Luthor wanted; if she got homesick and depressed, she'd be tempted to actually give him the information he wanted just for the chance to get away. And she knew he wouldn't really let her go. Only the pain of loss could convince her to believe his lies.

No, it was better overall to do as Zod had suggested, and put aside her memories. Kala reverently kissed the glass protecting the framed photo, and then put it back in her bag. A thought occurred to her then, and her lips quirked up in a tiny smile. "Not ice," she murmured, confusing the technician who was currently monitoring her room. "Crystal."

Kryptonian crystals were stronger than steel, weight for weight, and they thrived on heat and pressure. Let Luthor try his hardest to break her, she thought. He would find the Last Daughter of Krypton an undaunted foe.

…

The last two rooms were across the hall from each other. Lana opened one door, Richard got the other, and they both saw that each room had two double beds. "Convenient," Richard said. "Boys to the left, girls to the right?"

"Sure," Lana replied. "I just need to rinse her scarf and clean this up."

Before he could answer, Lois came storming out of the room up the hall, heading for the elevator again. A single glance at the set of her shoulders told Jason she was headed out. "I'm going after Mom," he said quickly. "None of us should be alone." With that, he ran after her, giving Richard and Lana no choice about it.

Behind him, he heard Lana sigh. "Richard, talk to Clark, please. Maybe he'll listen to you."

"I've been there, and I didn't like it any more than he does," Richard replied.

That probably left Elise to help Lana re-bandage her injury, and Jason felt a twinge of guilt. More of his mind was preoccupied with catching his mother before the elevator doors closed.

He didn't quite make it, and barreled down the stairs, trying to listen for her heartbeat over the echoes of his footfalls. For a confused moment, Jason thought she might have gotten off on another floor, the hotel acoustics playing tricks on his perception, but then he figured out where her heartbeat was coming from and headed out to the parking lot.

Once at the car where she'd taken refuge, however, he couldn't figure out what to say, and looked at Lois pleadingly. She seemed so tiny and lost in the rental car, clearly huddled there for the night. Her expression showed how very close she was to the breaking point when she rolled down the window to murmur, "Jason, not now. I'm having a hard enough time keeping my shit together, okay? We'll talk about this later."

Lois swore, frequently and virulently, but not often in front of the kids. Jason had never heard a casual curse like that just dropped into conversation, which only emphasized her exhaustion. He quickly said, "We don't have to talk. I just don't want you to be out here on your own. Dad's being a butthead, so it's my job to protect you."

He wasn't sure if the stifled sound she made was a laugh or a sob, or both, but it was enough to get Mom to open the door and pull him down into a hug.


	36. Act IV: Trust: With or Without You

**Hope this chapter was worth the wait, everyone! As to everything that's happening here, and will be happening in the chapters to come, we can only ask that you trust us. This story has been four years in the making – we began plotting **_**Heirs to the House of El**_** while we were writing **_**Little Secrets**_** – and everything that is to come has its purpose in the storyline.**

**Also remember that we are hardcore Clois 'shippers. You may want to keep that in mind, too.**

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The hour was growing late, the day and its activities had been more than a little strenuous, and Maggie Sawyer would have liked nothing more than to be asleep at this point. But her mind was still racing with all that had been happening, and she didn't dare drink more than three shots of scotch when she was going to work in the morning. There had been no update from Lois or Clark, either, and she knew she couldn't rest until she knew that Richard and Lana had made it in one piece. And there was the mess with the kids to add to the anxiety. So she sprawled in the comfortable chair just beside the balcony doors and tried to drowse. The call would come in, she knew. She just had to be patient. Maggie closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind, hearing the faint sounds of Tobie and Cat arguing over something from the kitchen. Probably something completely ridiculous, a trend that had started almost immediately after they had come home from the Troupe's.

First thing this morning was a fine example. Tobie had started the day by bitching at Cat for not rinsing out her toothbrush, prompting a puzzled look from Jamie. Turning to her mother, she asked in a vaguely amused tone, "Are they _always_ like this?" Maggie, unable to stop her smirk, had told her plainly that any time the three friends weren't arguing, someone was in a life-or-death situation, so she actually welcomed the bickering – it signaled a slight return to normality. Of course, without Lois around to balance them out, Tobie and Cat were twice as contentious. If she heard correctly, they were now in a heated argument about alfredo sauce versus tomato sauce. How the hell they'd gotten on _that_ topic, she'd never know, but at least Jamie was having a ball laughing at them. She couldn't remember a time when she had heard her daughter laugh so much, in fact.

And at least _she_ knew they were safe. The situation in Smallville had been stable since the rest of the family had touched down, Martha herself had called once all were settled, and she'd had a call from Ron that night. Currently, all of the family attached to the _Daily Planet_ were involved in what looked like a bid to take over the newspaper. They had control of the situation right now, but they wanted to keep Lois out of it for the moment. Everyone suspected it was a ploy by Luthor to distract all connected from whatever he was planning for Lois and Clark, and neither of them could afford the distraction. There had been no further attacks on any of the family still in town, so Ron thought they should keep this to themselves for now. Maggie fully agreed, telling him to keep her on standby. The news was enough to soothe her a little. Now if only she could reach someone in Nevada to know that they were all right…

"Inspector Sawyer." That gravelly male voice came from the balcony not six inches away from her ear, and Maggie was on her feet with her gun drawn before she recognized the voice – and the style. _Goddamn pointy-eared bastard._

Holstering her gun, she yanked back the curtain to confront the cowled figure she remembered well from her stint in Gotham's Major Crimes Unit. That, however, did nothing for her frayed nerves. "Someday you may want to stop doing that. Do you _want_ to get shot?" she growled irritably, glowering at him.

Maggie saw what may have been a smirk cross his lips, but Batman was too draped in shadow for her to be certain. "I thought you might appreciate an update, in light of the situation."

Pushing away her annoyance, she leaned against the doorway and regarded him seriously. "I would, actually." Truth be told, she was a bit impressed by the fact that he'd sought her out. That could only have come with Superman's help and that meant that the situation out west could stop preying on her thoughts so heavily. Then again, he could be vexingly uncommunicative when he wanted to, frustrating the hell out of Gordon; she bet that it was the commissioner who had begun calling him 'the Goddamn Batman' after one of those infuriatingly brief meetings. But there was no doubt in Maggie's mind whose side Batman was on.

He told her that Lois and Clark were presently safe in Nevada, and that Richard and Lana had discovered their stowaways. Jason and Elise were still with them, the adults evidently deciding that the kids were safer under their watchful eyes. So far, Luthor had made no move against them, but they were no closer to finding him, either. And Superman seemed of the mind that time was running out.

"Thank you," Maggie told him. She glanced away at the sound of Cat's footsteps in the hall, and when she turned back, Batman was gone. She shook her head with a sigh. "The amazing disappearing superhero, ladies and gentlemen."

…

When she had stowed away with Jason, she had never thought that she'd be doing this. Elise had been so glad to have been a counselor at summer camp; the basic first-aid knowledge seemed to be coming in handy tonight. But she wasn't expecting what she saw when Lana raised her blouse. Just seeing it made the girl hiss in sympathetic pain. Beneath the bandage, the long slash across her ribs had reopened during the day, and blood smeared the wound, some of it dry, some still tacky. "Oh, wow."

Lana gave a small smile at that, all too aware of how it looked. "I know," the redhead murmured when she saw the girl's pained wince, trying to be reassuring in spite of the reality of the wounds. "And I can't see what I'm doing, so you have to clean it. I'm sorry, Elise."

The girl was torn between disbelief and awe at the older woman's guts. She'd have taken herself into an emergency room ASAP if it had been her, but it was clear that Lana had no intentions of even considering that. Again she was amazed at this family. They were just unbelievable. "This is so not your fault," Elise told her, forcing herself to think straight. Okay, first things first, get it cleaned up. Fortunately the hospital had sent home a wound care kit, and Richard always had a first-aid kit on the plane, so she had supplies.

Lana held still while she sprayed cold saline over the wound and daubed it away with gauze. Once the dried blood was off, Elise could see that two stitches had torn through the skin, opening the cut each time Lana moved.

Elise smeared it with antibiotic ointment and held pressure against it with clean gauze for a few minutes, then wiped away the excess ointment and applied some butterfly bandages. "Okay, that should hold it closed for a while," she said as she covered the whole thing with gauze and taped it in place, concentrating on making it as snug as she could. She couldn't help giving the redhead a warning look, though. "But if you keep opening it by moving around, it's going to scar."

Jason's stepmother just looked back at her with a small smile, obviously affected by the concern, but Elise knew she wasn't going to back down. "I can live with a scar," Lana told her. "What I can't live with is knowing I lay in a hospital bed like a coward while my daughter was being held captive." That said, she sat up gingerly and pulled the blouse down over the fresh bandage. Then she looked at the girl thoughtfully. "Thank you, Elise. I couldn't have done this alone."

They both glanced at the door, but neither Jason nor Richard had returned. All too aware that anything could happen at any time in this situation, Elise sighed with defeat. "You're welcome. But what you need to be doing right now is nothing. Do you have to do something with the rest of them tonight? Any chance of you just resting for a while? Maybe get the rest of this cleaned up?"

Lana relented a little. "The dressings are supposed to be changed every day. Richard said I might as well just completely bandage both arms and wrap them in that purple stuff in the kit there, instead of doing separate bandages. And my hand has to be cleaned and re-bandaged, and the drains checked, too."

All of that sounded, quite frankly, gross. But Elise figured everyone else was busy having their meltdowns, and she was here. At least this way she was needed, which kept her from worrying over Jason and what was going on with Lois. "We might as well get started," she said, reaching for the bandage scissors.

As she worked, she had to keep biting her lip not to say something. Lana had many slashes across both forearms, ranging from shallow cuts that just needed a smear of antibiotic ointment to deep gashes with many stitches. Elise couldn't imagine how much this was hurting, or how Lana could keep going without complaining at all.

There was silence for a time, Elise concentrating on the task at hand and the older woman staying as still as possible. After a while Lana broke it, her voice hushed, "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier." The girl looked up then, startled, to see a very thoughtful look on Lana's face. "Elise, I want you to understand something. It's not that we don't like you; far from it. I don't think it's ever been a secret that you've been one of the best choices that Jason ever made. It's that you shouldn't be in this much danger."

"Neither should you," Elise pointed out, meeting her gaze and meaning it fully.

Lana smiled, her sea-green eyes tired. "The difference is, I've made a commitment to this family already. I'm aware of what I'm walking into. You … Elise, you're a very brave and insightful young woman, but there's too much you don't know."

That furrowed Elise's brow in way that nothing else in this conversation had. Again with the damn family-mystery thing. What in the hell was going on here that no one would explain to her? It was starting to feel like she has living in a Gothic romance novel where Jason had a crazy ex-wife locked in the attic somewhere. True as it was, now wasn't the time or the place to drag it out of them, particularly out of poor wounded Mrs. White. Holding her tongue, Elise dropped her eyes back to the work at hand. "Tell me about it," she sighed.

…

Richard knocked lightly at the door, but it swung open under his hand; Lois hadn't completely closed it behind her when she had stormed out. He resisted the urge to peek in to check the space first and strolled in as if nothing were wrong. "Hey, Clark," he called, keeping the tone light.

"I'm going out," was the other man's instantaneous response, his voice harsh. Clark was staring out the window, his back to Richard. "I can get sunlight instead of sleep."

"Man, it's dark out," Richard replied, startled.

"On the other side of the world it's midday." Clark turned toward Richard then, and his face was haggard. Without another word, he was starting for the door.

Richard saw the determination there and knew he had to work quickly if he didn't want the older man to leave. And he didn't need to leave; this cycle didn't need to start over again. It was likely part of their current problem, actually. "Clark. Stop, man. Seriously. You need sleep – actual sleep. Didn't you tell me sunlight makes you feel energized, but it doesn't replace sleep? Kinda like caffeine does for the rest of us. I tell you what, I wouldn't want to try pulling an all-nighter right now no matter how much coffee you gave me." Richard tilted his head, frowning. "Come to think of it, Clark, when was the last time you slept?"

The older man scowled, then, having to think about it. "The day before yesterday. I think."

"Yeah, you need rest," Richard insisted. "Get some sun tomorrow."

Clark's voice was brittle as he replied, "And how exactly do you expect me to _sleep_ with everything that's going on? I'm exhausted, but I'm way too keyed up to even close my eyes. Worrying about Kala would be enough, but Lois…"

When he stumbled to a halt, Richard sat down in the room's chair. "About her. Wanna talk about it?"

It was clear then where Jason's petulant look of displeasure came from as Clark brooded. If this situation had been a little less serious, Richard would have called him on it, but now wasn't the time. "Thanks, your wife already gave me the lecture," he snapped. Nope, definitely not the right time.

Richard only shrugged then, his whole being deceptively casual as he leaned back in the chair as if he belonged there. "Hey, who said I was here to lecture you? I can understand how you feel – she lied to me quite a lot back in the day, too, and I was royally pissed off about it. No one ever said it was _easy_ to love Lois Lane."

"You don't understand. It was _Luthor_. She dealt with _Luthor_, and hid it from me!" He was pacing then, trying to outrun his anxiety.

That drew a chuckle from Richard. "Yeah, I do, actually. It was _you_. She slept with _Superman_ and hid that from me."

Clark paused, giving his friend a startled look, and the younger man continued, "I was always a fan. I was excited as hell to meet her when she came back from Paris because she was your chronicler. But she always insisted it was strictly business between you two. I felt like such an idiot when I found out the rest of Metropolis considered you the biggest love story in town. And yeah, I was mad at her for everything else she hid from me, not just her relationship with you. It wasn't so much that she had me raising the Supertwins, but things like … she'd had a tubal ligation, and never told me about that. Or that she never had any intention of marrying me."

"Okay, you have a point," Clark admitted finally. He sat down heavily on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to scrub away some of the exhaustion.

"Told you so." Richard couldn't resist a smirk before he added, "So I can understand why you're acting … hmm, a little out of character?"

Clark looked over at him despondently. "How am I supposed to act, Richard? She made a deal with _Luthor_ and kept it a secret from me for ten years!"

"Think of it this way," the younger man suggested. "We're talking about a woman who jumped from a helicopter into the ocean, fifty miles from land, _while handcuffed_, to save your life. That is how freaking intensely committed Lois is."

Clark looked appropriately embarrassed at that reminder; he'd been so angry at Lois that he had forgotten how dedicated she was. That point made, Richard moved on, "Knowing that about her, I'm not at all surprised that she made a deal with Luthor. And seeing how you reacted to finding out, I kinda can't blame her for keeping it a secret. That doesn't make what she did right," he interjected quickly, seeing the wounded look in Clark's eyes. "It wasn't right, Clark. She was wrong. And it sounds like she didn't have any better choices at the time. I don't have the full story, but maybe you should think about getting it. If you can talk to her long enough to hear her out."

Poor Clark looked beaten and beleaguered. "It's not just that. I guess … the biggest thing for me is that I trusted her, and even if you're right, it still feels like a huge betrayal. Now I'm questioning a lot of things I always took for granted."

"Like what?" asked Richard, who could see that Clark had something he needed to get off his chest, even if the other man was acting reluctant.

"Like this idiot investor who's been hanging around her at work," Clark muttered, his words coming slowly. "He's just some rich kid who's fascinated by the hotshot reporter with the great legs."

"There's always a few of those hovering around her," Richard commented, thinking that Clark rarely mentioned Lois' physical attributes out loud. Maybe he should compliment her that obviously a little more often… "A few decent guys, like you and me and Jimmy Olsen, but a lot of shallow jerks obsessed with the legs. And they are worth obsessing over, am I right?" That actually got a chuckle from Clark, and Richard followed up quickly. "She usually runs off the annoying ones, though. If this guy is aggravating you, she must not have scared him away yet. So what's the deal?"

"She's _encouraging_ him," Clark growled. "Every time I turn around they're talking and laughing in her office. And lately she's hiding her computer screen whenever I walk by."

"Clark, she said she was researching Luthor. I bet that's why she's hiding what she's doing online," Richard pointed out. "As for this Eastlake guy, you can't seriously think she'd cheat on you with one of the investors."

"I wouldn't have thought so, but…" Clark muttered.

"Hey. Earth to Clark? Lois is not going to cheat. Know why?" Richard waited until the older man turned his beleaguered gaze up to him, and hit him with the punch line. "Because _she's fucking Superman._ What mere human has a chance against that?" Clark looked so horrified by that statement that Richard couldn't help adding, "Except me, of course."

That finally got the reaction he wanted – Clark laughed, the tension falling away from him. "Richard, have you _ever_ doubted yourself?"

"Nope, not since Right Said Fred stole my theme song. I'm so sexy I make Tobie Raines uncomfortable," Richard joked back.

"I don't think that's why she's uncomfortable around you. I think it has more to do with controlling her urge to slap you upside the head."

Richard shrugged. "I'm not kidding about you, though. What else could she want? Lois has the man that every woman in the world fantasizes about. Hell, there are still women sunbathing naked on rooftops in this city every summer."

"Please don't remind me." Clark winced, and decided to change the subject slightly. "As for you, I know better, Richard. I've never worried about you and Lois, even though you still have some chemistry. At least, not since that journalism conference in Japan."

That ended the hilarity instantly, Richard's spine turning to ice. He and Lois had almost kissed then, and it was true that the conference marked the turning point in his relationship with her. After that one momentary brush with adultery, the two of them had always been friends with a little spark of something more, not the lovers they once were. But Clark sounded almost as if he knew. "You know," Richard said, trying to sound as casually as he could, "she and I never…"

"I know," Clark said without the slightest change in his tone. "I trusted the both of you. You had to figure out how to deal with having been together and still seeing each other, and the conference was the perfect way to do it. You proved to yourselves that you could actually be alone together and not leap right back into bed. I never doubted you; you wouldn't betray me like that."

"I came pretty close to kissing her," Richard finally said. "We were both really drunk, not that that excuses it."

Clark shrugged. "It wouldn't have gone beyond that. You know who you want to spend the rest of your life waking up beside, and it isn't Lois. And as much as she still loves you, she wouldn't have."

Thoughtfully, Richard asked him, "So if you trusted her that much with me, who actually slept with her for three years and knows exactly how to seduce her, why are you so worried about this Eastlake guy?"

"I know you. You like everyone to think you're an absolutely amoral stud, but you're actually one of the good guys. Otherwise Lana would never have given you a second glance."

Richard couldn't fault that logic, although under other circumstances he would've reminded Clark that he _had_ been that promiscuous in his younger years. As it was, he was more concerned with figuring out why Clark was threatened by this investor. "Still … what does Eastlake have that you don't? Seriously, you don't even need a plane to join the mile-high club."

As Clark winced again, the answer dawned on Richard. "Let me guess – this guy pays attention to her, right? He's always around, talking to her, hanging on every word she says."

"Basically. He follows her around like a well-trained dog."

"Which is _exactly_ how everyone used to describe _you_!" Richard exclaimed. "Not the cape, but the guy at the office who just smiled when she stole his coffee. The man who was always there for her, the best friend who was madly in love. That's the _only_ thing this jerk can possibly give her that you aren't: some attention."

"She knew when she married me that the mission…" Clark didn't even get to finish his sentence.

"Oh come on. You have a whole league's worth of help, and you don't have to step in at every traffic accident in Metropolis. You have to _make_ time for your wife, Clark. Trust me, I know." Richard scoffed slightly. "Do you think I have _anything_ Lana needs? She's got enough money to buy and sell me five times over. Yesterday proved she doesn't need a man to protect her. She doesn't need me to run her business, and I think she'd get mightily ticked off if I tried. She doesn't even need the sex. The _only_ thing I have that she needs is the attention. And even though Lois would never admit it, even under torture, she needs that too."

Clark scowled. "She hates it when I make a fuss over her."

Richard laughed. "Oh man, you are _so_ out of touch. Clark, remember Valentine's Day a few years ago when you sent her a hundred and one roses?"

"She complained for _days_."

"Yeah, but she also displayed those suckers at her desk. It's just like when you cuddle her, she complains about it and tells you you're mussing her hair, but she doesn't actually try to get away, does she?"

Clark was about to argue that, when he remembered one of their trips to the cabin. The kids had found a huge drift of fallen leaves, and all of them wound up getting a little silly and playing in the leaves. Richard had started tickling Lois, and she'd screamed and swatted at him, yelling at him to knock it off. Lana had been momentarily worried, but Clark had stopped her from intervening. 'If Lois wants him to quit, she'll make him quit,' he'd said when the redhead looked at him in puzzlement. 'The last man who touched her when she didn't want him to got his hand broken.' After a moment, Lana had seen that Lois was laughing in spite of her protests, and it had become obvious that she wasn't really mad at Richard. Although when she stuffed a double handful of leaves down his shirt, it might have been up for debate.

"See, the thing about Lois is, she can't _admit_ to wanting to be fawned over," Richard continued, bringing Clark out of his reverie. "She's way too hardcore for that. She'll never just tell you that she needs a hug, or that she just wants to talk about how your day was. Even now, even with the people who know her best, she can't quite bring herself to be that vulnerable. If that's frustrating, blame her dad. I'd punch him if he was still alive for how neurotic she is, but even that wouldn't help."

"You're probably right," Clark admitted, thinking about all the times Lois had smiled with possessive pride even as she'd told him not to get cuddly at the office.

"And you know what else?" Richard said quietly. "You used to know all this, Clark. You used to laugh at idiots like Eastlake who tried to put the moves on Lois. You thought it was hysterical, because you knew they never had a shot with her. When did you forget everything you used to know about your own wife, Clark?"

…

Now in the car with the heater blowing, Jason stared across the seat at his mother. Her gaze was firmly forward out the windshield, but the boy knew her mind was directed farther away. He had tried to get her to go inside once they had pulled out of their hug, but Lois had refused the idea the moment it was uttered. Having heard the way their voices had been raised, Jason couldn't say that he blamed her. In the end, he suggested that they at least get in the car and stay warm. Mom had wanted him to go on back up. "I'm not going without you," he had told her, digging in his heels. In the end, Lois had simply rolled her eyes in disgust and unlocked the passenger-side door.

That had been half an hour ago. Although she had held the hand he had slipped in hers once they were in the car, she hadn't said a word since they had settled in. In that time, he had seen a range of emotions play out across her face, some that actually frightened him. Jason didn't dare speak until she sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "Mom, why? Why did you take the deal? Why didn't you tell Dad?"

That opened her eyes instantly. He had fully expected to be screamed at, for those eyes to stare that him with hurt betrayal. Instead she just squeezed his hand, and Jason realized that his mother was looking at him like an adult. "For you. And Kala. And my own selfishness. You two were still so little; I'd tried so hard to keep you and Kala safe and hidden. If it had just been me … hell, even just me and your Dad … I would have told him to go to hell. Told your Dad what he was up to. Let him do his worst."

The strain of that decision showed in the haunting light in her eyes. She frowned slightly then, looking away. "But he had found the perfect Achilles heel by then. It was a catch-22, sweetheart. Either I dragged you and the rest of the family right back into a battle with Luthor or I lied to your father about keeping us safe." The chuckle that rose from her throat was bitter, appropriate for the secret she'd been forced to keep. "There was never a choice. And Luthor knew that. Jason, you were there." Her eyes went back to him and he was surprised to see tears there.

When she spoke again, her jaw was clenched, voice slightly muffled by her gritted teeth. The frustration and anger there was a decade old. "He had a shiv to your throat to bait me. He left you both with a convicted child molester. Took you to an island made of kryptonite to use you against your father, knowing full-well the effects. And tossed Kala over the side. You both were six! Just babies still. We'd barely survived the first encounter. What damn choice did I have?"

Feeling tears in his own eyes, Jason leaned over to put his arms around her. And much to his surprise, she let down her guard enough to let him. Hugging him back as tightly as she could, he heard her stifle a sob against his shoulder, "Do any of you think it was easy? I hated lying to your dad, hated the fact that Luthor could renege on the deal at any time he felt like. He held all the cards. But it was worth it to have my family. Dammit, I never wanted to get married in the first damn place when I met him, but I don't think I've wanted anything as much as I wanted all of us together after that. And now that I had it, I couldn't let it go. And it's all I could think about that day in the subway tunnel. That I had everything I never knew I wanted and, now that I had it, it was going to be taken away again. And I couldn't do it. Even if your father hated me for it. Someone had to do it and this was too important to all of our lives to chance his not agreeing. I couldn't lose all of you. I couldn't."

Listening to the way her voice quavered, Jason just hugged her tighter. How long had this been eating at her? Thinking back over the past couple of years, his mother's occasionally strange behavior started to make sense. Even in her happiest moments, she had been watchful. His grandmother had once likened her to a mother bear, letting her children stray from time to time but ready to come on the run if anyone harmed them. He could remember her on the boat if he really tried, remember her trying to buy time and throw out diversions long enough to get him away from Luthor. Normally, this was a thought that he pushed as far back in his subconscious as he could; in his nightmares, he could still hear the greedy glee in the man's voice as he pressed the shiv closer while taunting his mother.

Kala had never seen the way Luthor had used him against Lois, how far she had been willing to go just to get them out of the old man's clutches. No matter what the cost. What Mom had done wasn't necessarily right, but it was the only thing she could do in light of the situation. Having been there, seen the terror and chaos that Luthor had put her through, he understood in a way that no one else in the family likely could. He knew how far she had been willing to go. Closing his eyes tightly against the wash of love that crashed into him, Jason murmured against her hair, "I love you, Mom. And thank you. Even if Dad never says it, thank you for loving us that much. No one should have even asked it of you. It's not fair that you had to carry that around for us."

Jason could feel her struggling to contain her emotions then; how long had she been waiting for someone to say that, he wondered. But even while she strove for self-control, pulling back from him to give him a teary and grateful look, her phone rang. That seemed to break the spell. Sitting up and sniffling back tears, Lois fumbled the phone out of her pocket while Jason stared. "Lane here," she said brusquely, clearing her throat. It was obvious that she thought the phone call to be of huge importance.

Nothing epic occurred then, he could only hear a rumbling man's voice reply, "Check your email," before hanging up.

The immediacy of the way the call dropped had Jason staring at his mother in disbelief. He knew Luthor's voice well enough to hear it, and that hadn't been him, but it unsettled him nonetheless. "Mom? Who was that?"

The secretive light in those eyes was back, her expression guarded as she regarded him. All signs showed that she knew he had listened in with his limited super-hearing. It also said she couldn't really blame him in the situation. "If you're going to eavesdrop, Jason Garen, learn to be a little more subtle. And hush, you'll have your father down here and that's the last thing we need right now," Lois scolded, scrolling through her phone menu.

"Maybe he needs to be down here," Jason retorted, frowning at her disapprovingly. "What's going on that some guy is randomly creepy-calling you?" As he watched in amazement, she continued to go through her phone as if she hadn't heard him. "Mom! What are you doing? Hey, don't check your email! You don't know what he just sent you!"

Lois looked up at her son with measured patience, one eyebrow arching sharply. No fear there, which was what Jason had expected. Whatever this was, she had been waiting for this information. "Relax, Jason. That was only your Uncle Bruce."

That _really_ wasn't what he'd been expecting. "Oh," he said, feeling more than a little chagrined. "Wait, how come Uncle Bruce is emailing you? I thought Dad said they were going to Kansas to help…"

Lois closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed. The weariness in her expression was the only evidence of her emotional turmoil just minutes ago. "Your father told Bruce and the JLA to stay out of this, that he didn't want their help going after Luthor. He told the entire League to baby-sit the family in Smallville, if they wanted to help."

"Whoa," Jason murmured, raising his own eyebrows. Uncle Bruce couldn't have liked that.

"Yeah, well, Bruce and I think alike on a lot of things. Such as, sometimes you have to do exactly what Clark doesn't want you to do in order to help him." Lois gave a dry chuckle. "So Bruce has been doing his part to help us from behind the scenes. That phone call was just let me know that he me sent the latest information he's been able to glean about Luthor's recent activities."

Jason just looked at her for a minute. "Okay, why do I get the feeling you're not going to tell Dad about this?"

"Because I'm not an idiot," Lois retorted. "He'll have a damn fit if he finds out that I asked for help. Once this is done, I'll tell him the truth, the _whole_ truth. But for now, I'm passing Bruce's information off as my own research."

He knew better, but he had to at least try to talk sense to her. "Mom, you know he's…"

He didn't even get the full sentence out before she cut him off. "He's already pissed; I'm aware of that and Jason, let's not make it any worse." She wasn't going to budge, he could tell. And honestly, Jason couldn't fault her logic there. He was willing to do pretty much anything to get Kal back. For the time being, he decided it was best if he kept his mouth shut about the League's continued involvement.

…

Taken aback by Richard's question, Clark couldn't even begin to respond. He wanted to protest, but he knew he couldn't back that up. Everything Richard had said was true; he and Lois _had_ lost touch. But where had they gone wrong?

When he just looked miserable and confused, Richard leaned forward. "Hey. It isn't all you, Clark. I'd be the last man to tell you that Lois is perfect or that she's right all the time. I _know_ her – in the Biblical sense. But I also know exactly where you two are right now. You're mistrusting each other, bickering a lot, going a while without fighting only because you're both biting your tongues about the things that aggravate you. And a lot aggravates you, stupid little piddly shit that you could handle a year ago, and actually _liked_ when you met her." He laughed, a short sharp sound. "My uncle gave me this talk not long before Luthor showed up in our lives the last time. Clark, you love Lois for being mysterious and willful and courageous. Just remember that those things also mean secretive, stubborn, and willing to do absolutely _anything_ to protect her family, including cutting a deal with a madman."

Clark stared at him, trying to bend his mind around what Richard was saying. What a cruel joke, that the very qualities he admired in Lois should be causing such friction in their relationship now. Richard was far from finished, however. "I've been where you are right now, Clark, and I've been there with her. It's not fun, is it? Trust me, I'm saying this as your friend and hers: you're heading down a road you do _not_ want to be on with her, and the only way you're going to get out of it is if both of you make a concerted effort to turn around."

"I can try, but Lois…" Clark trailed off, thinking of the sullen looks she'd been giving him.

"Lois is doing all she can not to bite your head off," Richard informed him. "When have you _ever_ known her to put up with _anyone_ treating her the way you have the last few days? If I snapped at her like you did in the lobby, she'd kick my ass halfway into next week."

Scowling, Clark wondered whose side Richard was really on, and instantly upbraided himself. The younger man was giving him nothing other than the unvarnished truth, and truth hurts. Clark _had_ been sniping at Lois, speaking more cruelly to her than he ever had to anyone else before in his life. Then again, he'd never felt so betrayed, and never feared anyone as much as he feared Luthor.

"I don't think I've ever been angry like this before," he said apologetically. "I guess Lois is trying to put up with it because she feels guilty?"

"No, because she's afraid of losing you," Richard corrected. "No matter how much you're hurting her right now, she couldn't bear to lose you, Clark. Why do you think she's been dyeing her hair?"

Clark tilted his head in confusion at that non sequitur. "What does hair dye have to do with us arguing?"

Richard was already shaking his head sadly. "Clark. Listen to me. Lois may still jokingly claim to be thirty-five, but we both know better. Like it or not, she's getting older. But you spend all your free time hanging around a bunch of hot younger women in spandex, and _they_ have superpowers. Lois feels like she has to keep dyeing her hair so maybe you won't decide to trade her in for a newer model."

His jaw dropping open, Clark was rendered speechless yet again. On this one, Richard _had_ to be off-base. Didn't Lois know that he had only ever had eyes for her? "I would _never_ cheat on Lois," he stated in vehement denial.

"Yeah, but she's lost touch with what she used to know about you, too," Richard reminded him. "And to be honest, most guys in your position would be tempted. It's like the president always being surrounded by impressionable interns. You're this amazing, powerful man, women freaking ogle you wherever you go – at least in uniform – and your wife has to worry that if you're offered enough free samples, you might not be able to resist."

"Richard, you know me," Clark said slowly and seriously. "You know I can't lie. So understand me when I say this: I have never even thought of it. Never. Not once in the ten years of our marriage. Even before that; from the moment I met Lois, there was never another woman for me."

"And I believe it, coming from you. You don't even _look_, and that's quite frankly weird, for the average guy."

"I'm not the average guy," Clark replied.

"Not by a long shot," Richard retorted, and grinned again. The smile faded as he continued, "The thing is, I bet Lois has forgotten that. See, women don't realize that we men aren't as shallow as we seem. Most of us like to look at younger women, especially when they dress sexy, but we'd rather stay with the women we love than fool around with the cute young thing taking her shirt off for _Girls Gone Wild_. Most of us are more forgiving of our wives' appearances than they are, too. I happen to know that you think Lois is sexy first thing in the morning, when her hair's all mussed and she's grouchy and squinting at the word through a haze of caffeine withdrawal. She would never in a million years assume she looked good at that moment, and she's usually pretty confident about her looks."

Clark was frowning at him, not understanding what he was getting at. "But what would make Lois assume I'd do something I've never done and never even thought about?"

"One, she's hasn't been thinking right since the summer. Losing Ella really rocked her to the core. And two, she doesn't _know_ you've never thought about it. Most guys have thought about these women even though they've never met them, and you work with them all the time. It'd give any woman pause, and Lois has had a lot to worry about lately." Richard chuckled wryly. "And to be perfectly honest, if Lois had seen you getting all cuddly with Wonder Woman in the subway, she would've reduced the JLA trinity to two."

Clark drew back, frowning. Richard had been close by when they'd found Kala's sunglasses, but he hadn't realized the younger man had been _that_ close. If he'd seen Clark hug Diana, then he'd seen her in civilian garb. Her secret identity might be compromised; though Clark knew from personal experience that Richard was a trustworthy confidant, Diana would not be happy with a perfect stranger knowing who she was.

On the other hand, what was so rage-inspiring about a hug, particularly under those circumstances? He had _needed_ the moment of comfort in the midst of frantically searching for Kala, and that was just when they thought she'd run away. "Why?" Clark asked, trusting that Richard would know how Lois' mind worked. "I just hugged her. I hug lots of people. Lots of _women_, if that's the point – all of Lois' friends hug me." Cat Grant was even fond of leaving a bright red lipstick mark on his cheek.

"Yeah, but those are her friends," Richard pointed out. "Wonder Woman is like her arch-nemesis. Lois _hates_ her. She'd probably strangle her if they ever met."

"Now you're just exaggerating. Lois saw her yesterday when I took her with me to talk to the League." Lois had looked sullen and furious, but they had just had the argument about her making the deal.

"I told you she was holding back," Richard countered. "You have to have seen it. Every time Wonder Woman's on television, Lois practically foams at the mouth."

"But why?" Clark heard the frustrated note in his own voice. This felt too much like talking to a therapist, asking Richard to translate Lois' actions. Once upon a time Clark had known the reason behind most of Lois' reactions to things, but on this topic he was clueless. Why on earth did his wife hate one of his colleagues? She was fine with Bruce, Wally amused her, and of the rest she'd met, Lois had liked most of them. But not Diana. "What does she have against Wonder Woman?"

Richard rubbed his temples, chuckling softly. "Let's start with the fact that your fans keep saying you and Wonder Woman would make a perfect couple. I've been hearing that since she made her debut."

"I know, but they say pretty much the same thing about me and Batman." At least that thought made Clark grin in amusement. Bruce had shrugged off that particular rumor with a remark that his debauched playboy persona had supposedly done everything _else_, so why not let the cape have some scandal, too? "It's the same sort of thing as the rumor around the office that has you and Lana involved with me and Lois – just gossip. Pick any two heroes, or celebrities, and someone out there has not only decided they're secretly married, they've also named the first three kids. That's life in the public eye."

"Okay, I'll give you that, but how about the way she looks at you? Granted, Wonder Woman has more dignity than to drool like most of your fangirls, but she does give you the eye." Richard leaned back as if he'd presented an airtight case.

Clark, however, frowned. He'd never really thought about it, but now that Richard drew his attention to the fact, Diana did turn a softer eye toward him than to anyone else. She could be downright abrasive to Bruce at times, but then, those two had a spectacularly dysfunctional type of chemistry. "She's a little nicer to me, but I wouldn't say she gives me the eye," Clark demurred. "Besides, she's a colleague. We keep things professional."

"I'd ask if you hug all your professional colleagues, but you married your City Editor," Richard pointed out, giving him a significant look. "And I've seen news footage. She _does_ give you a look sometimes. Hell, I saw her face when she hugged you. I'm sure she knows you're married, but I'd bet my pilot's license she kinda wishes you weren't."

And that was just too uncomfortable a thought to entertain for long. "So?" Clark asked, his brow furrowing. "According to you, there are lots of women who wish I weren't married. Not all of them are talking about Superman, either. Why does Lois hate _her_?"

"Probably because… You mean you've _really_ never thought about this? At all?" Richard looked utterly astounded, and Clark started to get annoyed. Was it so hard to believe that a man could be faithful to his wife in thought as well as in deed? He crossed his arms and glowered, not even dignifying the question with a response.

Richard just shook his head again. "You amaze me, Clark. Okay, the most obvious thing is, Wonder Woman isn't getting any older. And she won't either, if I remember her deal correctly. You don't look much older than you did when I met you, but Lois feels like she's aging faster than you are, and she's afraid that one day she'll be an old woman and you'll look just like you do now."

Clark shifted uneasily. Kryptonians had a somewhat longer life expectancy than humans, but that was mainly due to excellent health care in their elder years. He expected that he and Lois would grow old together. The thought that the yellow sun might slow his aging was an unwelcome one. He decided to skirt the issue. "Lois has always been a little too worried about her appearance; she's as beautiful to me now as she ever was. But she doesn't worry about younger women at the office, so what else is so specific about Wonder Woman?"

"Wonder Woman has powers pretty well equivalent to yours, while Lois is human."

"So?" Clark threw up his hands, exasperated. "What does that have to do with anything, except that since we're both founding members of the JLA, we'd never be home at the same time? I wouldn't consider the work schedule a bonus."

"I can't believe I have to spell this out for you," Richard sighed. "Clark. She's practically invulnerable, right? That means you would never have to hold back."

For a moment, Clark didn't realize what he meant, and then understanding dawned along with a blush that turned his ears red. He was always careful with Lois, and that meant he couldn't abandon himself to desire unless she was on top. It was too easy to imagine breaking her pelvis if he wasn't careful to reserve his strength. But what Richard said … if he were sleeping with Diana, he wouldn't have to worry about such things.

The thought itself embarrassed him. Clark simply didn't think of his colleagues like that, and the realization that Lois had probably come to that conclusion well before he even speculated on it made him feel foolish. Why hadn't he ever thought of that?

"You don't think about sex first," Richard agreed, evidently answering the expression on Clark's face. "A lot of guys are ruled by their gonads, and they have to train themselves to be decent people instead of the human equivalent of a dog that humps every leg it can reach. I speak from experience. But you just don't think like that. You treat everyone, regardless of sex or race or age, as a person first. And now that you're married, you don't even imagine what it would be like with someone else."

Clark cleared his throat. Before this moment, he'd never speculated about sleeping with anyone other than his wife. And afterward, he didn't plan to wonder about it ever again. He was married, he'd made a commitment, and adultery wasn't his style, no matter how angry he still was with Lois. "There's never been anyone else," he admitted. "And quite frankly, I don't want there to be."

"Good man." Richard leaned forward to lightly thump him on the shoulder. "Now, you have plenty to think about, which means you're almost guaranteed to fall asleep before you can get any good conclusions made. I'm going to go see how Lana is, and make sure Lois and Jason are all right."

After a pause, Clark told him, "They're already back in the hotel, in your room talking to Lana about sleeping arrangements. Tell Jason he can have the other bed in here, if he wants – Lois doesn't want to be around me right now."

And in spite of his anger that would not be denied, only banked, he heard the wistfulness in his own voice.

…

Luthor glared across his desk at the Kryptonian, but General Zod's expression was carefully blank, a serene mask that failed to yield to even Luthor's sharpest barbs. He often had the sense that his prisoner was biding his time, waiting for something, but Luthor had not yet been able to discover what that was. Zod knew he couldn't escape, and he surely couldn't expect anyone to rescue him, so how could he remain so aloof and confident?

He had just reported on Kala's progress, praising her swiftly-growing mastery of the language, but cautioning that she sometimes misspoke from haste. "She is most eager to learn, but her enthusiasm yet exceeds her skill."

The Kryptonian spoke as calmly as if this were a scheduled meeting, not the abrupt summons that had brought him here at an hour during which he was normally asleep. That rankled Luthor, but he kept his temper. "When will she be ready to try the AI again?" he asked.

"She would try _now_, if you allowed her," Zod told him. "But that I do not recommend. She will bear repeated failures harshly, and it is ease that she requires to achieve true fluency, not fiery determination."

Luthor couldn't fault that logic. As he turned over what Zod had said, Mercy watched them both from where she sat to Luthor's left. She glanced at the Kryptonian with cold amusement, and he returned her gaze levelly. "Are you certain you're not trying to forestall her for some reason?" Luthor asked, his voice silky.

"I am not so foolish," Zod replied urbanely. "My freedom hinges upon hers, for you have promised to release me once you have acquired the knowledge you desire. I assure you, she and I are of one mind in this endeavor, and not even the pleasure of thwarting you outweighs the desire to leave this place at last."

Someone knocked at the door, and Mercy rose fluidly to open it, her stance wary. Stanford came in, anxious in the presence of the three people he feared most in the world. Luthor stifled a sigh. For the moment, this was more important than interrogating Zod. "Stanford. I assume it's more bad news, since those spineless cowards in engineering sent you to deliver it?"

"We won't have the second satellite in place to take readings until morning," the geologist said. "The Russian communications satellite is in position, but it isn't capable of doing the type of search we need. We have to wait a few hours for a compatible satellite that we can hack." Luthor sneered at this news, and turned to take out his frustrations on Zod. But before he could begin to scathe the Kryptonian, the office door opened again.

Startled, Mercy whirled to the offense, but it was Kala who stood in the doorway staring coolly at them all. Luthor bit his lip on an exclamation of surprise. The girl looked different, standing more confidently. She'd chosen to wear unrelieved black, a satin blouse with jeans that emphasized the length of her legs and boots that added several inches to her height. The only spot of color was the pale blue of the cast on her wrist, which was mostly covered by her sleeves.

She stood with her arms crossed, meeting each of their eyes in turn before settling on the General. "Dru-Zod, I regret interrupting your meeting," she said in Kryptonese, "but if we are to resume my lessons in the morning, we must both be well rested." The three humans in the room all understood her, but Luthor saw a look of amazement on Stanford's face that he and Mercy were too disciplined to show. There was an audible difference to the way Kala sounded in Kryptonese as opposed to the three of them, all of whom were well-versed in it. Luthor figured it must be some slight difference in the construction of Kryptonian vocal chords.

"Of course," Zod replied, rising from his seat. With a courteous nod to Luthor, he departed, asking something of the girl in quiet tones.

The three of them stood staring at the door, until Mercy finally broke the silence. "She's chosen him over you, Lex."

"Doesn't she know who he is?" Stanford said in disbelief.

"She knows," Luthor said. "And she doesn't care that I know." He scowled. This did not bode well, though at the moment he couldn't see how an alliance between Kala and Zod could possibly benefit the two of them.

Stanford cleared his throat. "I did bring the preliminary scans you requested, sir," he said tentatively. He handed over several sheets of paper, and Mercy moved to look over Luthor's shoulder.

"According to this data, he's flying around above the atmosphere," Luthor muttered. "Why the hell is he so high up? Doesn't he have to breathe? And why hasn't he gone back down to the planet's surface at all in…"

He trailed off as sudden realization struck him. "Mercy, what's the update on the family in Kansas? Did we ever get a roll-call?"

"I haven't heard from any of our agents," she replied. "They haven't turned up on the local police blotter, either – they've just vanished."

"Could they have decided to go AWOL?" Luthor asked, his eyes agleam.

"Unlikely," Mercy said. "They were among the best we had – I pulled Radcliffe out of Metropolis to go check on them when we didn't have a report within six hours, and he's missing, too."

"Probably his little league of do-gooders," Luthor growled. "I wonder what they're so anxious to keep us from finding out, don't you?"

"We already know the Whites are somewhere in Nevada," Mercy said.

"Yes, but what about the boy?" Luthor asked, giving them both a telling look. It had always been his habit to coax his subordinates into making the same conclusions he had; the length of time and amount of coaching it took for them to get it usually reinforced his ego. Though if he was any judge, Mercy would soon catch on with just a little stronger hint. "Just where is that murdering little halfbreed?"

At those words, Mercy's eyes widened in comprehension. "The data shows Superman closer to the satellite because the signal is stronger than expected, coming from two Kryptonians."

Luthor nodded. "Sanford, go find the recalibration equations I wrote for our alpha-wave tracker, and rework them to include a fourth individual, similar to our guest Kala. When we get that next satellite in the morning and can triangulate, we'll be able to pinpoint them exactly."


	37. A Long Night's Journey Into Day

Lois here, flying on her own this weekend as Anissa is in Georgia for Mysa's wedding. As you'll see once you begin reading, events are beginning to speed up as we begin to reach top of our story arc here. All bets will very shortly be off and anything can happen. Those of you that know us know that we love a twisty tale. We are now at the pitch in **_Heirs_** in Act Four where we were in _**Little Secrets **_in the same portion of the story. And we all remember the events there, don't we?

No matter what comes next, continue to trust us. We know where this ends. And the finale will be worth it.

(It also won't take us another fifty chapters to get there this time! ;) _**YES, I MEAN IT**_!)

* * *

Maggie Sawyer watched through the one-way mirror, her keen gaze missing nothing, but her quarry wasn't some jumpy street kid to telegraph her state of mind through fidgeting. Giselle sat perfectly composed in the hard wooden chair, the one that Dan had sanded an eighth of an inch off one leg so it would never sit level. She didn't even look much worse for wear after having spent two nights and a day in jail. The intended strategy was to let Giselle get a good long look at what prison life could be like, and hope that she'd be rattled enough to say _anything_ that might get her out from behind bars sooner. It often worked with young offenders, the kinds of kids that were all aggressive façade.

But with Giselle, it seemed to have backfired. She certainly wasn't the girl Maggie had met before, the doe-eyed sweetheart from the New Year's Eve party nothing more than a memory. This young woman was cool, self-possessed, her green-eyed gaze faintly mocking whenever she glanced at the mirror. Maggie didn't like it.

It was just one thing on a very long list of things she disliked. Fortunately, she knew how to keep her anger and dismay in check while interrogating a suspect. Taking a deep breath, Maggie walked around to the door and went into the room.

Giselle met her gaze steadily, and Maggie thought, _Chameleon. She'll change into whatever she needs to be to survive._ "Good morning," the policewoman said casually.

"Are you going to be the good cop or the bad cop?" Giselle asked, her tone light, but biting sarcasm lurked beneath it. "Because I watched _NYPD Blue_ too, you know. None of those tricks work on me."

Maggie turned the room's other chair around and sat down in it, folding her arms along the back. "I don't doubt it, but not from watching TV. You've been in a few other police stations, haven't you, Giselle? Mostly fraud charges – the tax return checks thing was pretty clever."

The girl shrugged but said nothing. She was too wise to admit to anything. Maggie continued, "Must've been boring, going back to school and all that. Why'd you do it? Why take on such an intense cover for so long?"

"I won't answer anything without a lawyer, so you can quit trying." The girl sounded almost bored, and Maggie felt her anger beginning to rise to the surface.

She leaned forward, letting her gaze become cold and scathing as the Arctic wind. "Go ahead. Call your lawyer. But here's the deal, little girl. If you decide to play ball with us, I have to go along with whatever the D.A. says we can offer as a plea bargain. If you lawyer up, we'll prosecute you for everything we can think of. And trust me, I can think of a lot, starting with the attempted murder of my friend's son."

Her voice had become a growl at the end of that. Maggie remembered Lois' return to Metropolis, the twins just three years old, wide-eyed and wondering. She remembered how Cat had charmed Jason into letting her pick him up, and she'd done the same with Kala, the scent of the toddler's hair reminding her painfully of Jamie. She knew both kids well enough to love them fiercely, enough that only her deep commitment to her personal ethics kept her from knocking this arrogant little bitch right out of her chair. If Jason had been hurt … if Kala didn't return safely from wherever Luthor had her … then it would be wise for Giselle to steer very clear of Maggie Sawyer. Assuming, of course, that Lois didn't get to her first.

Not even her stare intimidated Giselle. The girl only leaned forward as well, her green eyes intense. "Listen up, cop," she said, and this was the bitter truth beneath her pretty face and sweet demeanor. "Lex Luthor is much scarier than you are. The worst you'll ever do to me is send me to prison. He'd kill me."

Maggie allowed herself to laugh. "You idiot. You think he won't kill you if you don't talk? Get real. He's going to assume you talked, and he'll kill you as soon as he can get his hands on you. That's why you're still in my jail, where I can keep an eye on you myself. If I let you go into a correctional facility, you wouldn't last the night."

For the first time, she saw real fear in Giselle's eyes. She smiled, and let Giselle see just how angry she was. "Right now I'm the only person protecting your worthless hide, and I really don't like you. So start talking; my patience is very limited."

…

Elise had thought that sharing a room with Mrs. Lane-Kent might be awkward, but the reporter had been too exhausted. After apologizing to Lana for not being there to patch up her popped stitch as promised – and re-bandaging the wound on her hand, which Elise was glad to not have to deal with – Lois hadn't even made a feeble attempt at small talk. She'd just gotten changed and fallen into bed, asleep before Elise finished brushing her teeth.

That had been weird, to say the least. Elise was old enough to know that adults didn't have _all_ the answers, but she was used to them at least acting like they had the world running more or less according to plan. Part of that was the way they tended to hover over kids, even older teenagers who could look after themselves. To be almost completely ignored, Mrs. Lane-Kent clearly assuming that Elise was smart enough to take care of herself, was a new experience.

And it just got stranger in the morning. Elise woke to her shoulder being gently shaken, and then she was left alone to get ready while Mrs. Lane-Kent went over to the Whites' room across the hall to discuss the plans for the day.

Elise took a shower using the complimentary bath stuff the hotel left out, but she hadn't been able to bring any spare clothes. Fortunately, someone was thinking of her; a white blouse and dark gray skirt were hanging on the outside of the bathroom doorknob. She got dressed gratefully, not quite able to put her finger on what was so off about the day so far.

At a loss for what else to do, Elise went over to the Whites' room. Mr. White saw her and grinned. "Think fast," he said, tossing something at her. When she caught it, it turned out to be a blueberry muffin. "I raided the breakfast buffet. Eat up, kiddo. We've got coffee to drink, and a pitcher of milk, too."

"Also liberated from the buffet," Mrs. Lane-Kent pointed out, and Mr. White just shrugged. Mrs. White rolled her eyes at him, but gave Elise an encouraging smile.

Mr. Kent barely glanced at Elise before returning his attention to what she now saw was a map spread out on the table. "Superman said he'd gotten out to Artesia Lake yesterday, and he followed the highway to Walker Lake at Hawthorne this morning. There's nothing close to the road, and the town itself should be safe."

"So let's take our traveling roadshow to Hawthorne," Mr. White said. "We can sniff for clues while Superman's flying a search pattern."

Mr. Kent sighed, but apparently he'd given up on sending everyone home. "And we can leave the kids safely in a major hotel. Speaking of which, Elise, would you go wake Jason? We need to get ready if we're going to make decent time today."

"Sure," she said, and he handed her the key. As she walked out of the room, she finally realized what was so odd, and it froze her in the hallway for a moment.

They were all treating her like another grownup – not hovering, and not assuming she was useless. They were looking out for her, making sure she had clean clothes and breakfast, but only because she hadn't had the time or ability to take care of those things herself. Come to think of it, even last night Mrs. Lane-Kent hadn't looked over her quick-fix on Mrs. White's stitches. She'd assumed that Elise was competent to take care of it.

Elise blinked. And then they'd sent her off to wake Jason, expecting her to continue to be useful. A little voice in her mind asked, _Isn't this exactly what you wanted?_ Well, yes, but she hadn't been quite ready for the weight of responsibility now settling on her shoulders. She decided to focus on the present, which at the moment was wolfing down the last of her muffin before she went into the room.

Before she started dating Jason, Elise had occasionally spent the night at the Lane-Kent penthouse, sitting up late with Kala and having cold pizza for breakfast the next morning. She'd learned then that Jason was a late riser, and given how broken his sleep had been the night before last, he'd probably be twice as difficult to wake up today. The girl shook her head ruefully as she went in to confront her ex.

Jason was asleep in the bed furthest from the door, curled up in the covers with only his nose showing. Elise couldn't help grinning slightly; he really was an adorable goof, if you only looked at the surface. The trouble with Jason was that he wasn't _just_ an adorable goof. Beneath the charmingly wacky exterior was a really deep, intense young man. Getting to know him had been a little like jumping into a kiddie wading pool expecting to get wet to the ankles, only to discover it was just the plastic edge of such a pool positioned perfectly around a bottomless sinkhole. Elise had quickly begun to feel like she was in way over her head, and when he'd popped out the whole family-pictures-on-the-mantle thing she'd done what seemed sensible at the time, and run away. She wasn't exactly proud of that, now.

Elise walked over to him with a sigh, shoving all of her thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand, which would not be easy. "Hey, Jason," she said loudly, and shook the comforter-wrapped lump that was probably his shoulder.

He grumbled incoherently and rolled over, turning his back to her. Elise shoved his shoulders again, rocking him back and forth, but he wasn't moving. "Come on, Jason, you have to get up," she insisted, giving another push. This time the grumbling sounded more intelligible, but it still didn't make any sense. She frowned, and decided to escalate. Elise grabbed the comforter up by Jason's head and yanked it, hard.

When he yelped and sat bolt upright, she realized she'd gotten a few strands of hair along with the heavy blanket. "Ow!" Jason yelled, rubbing his head.

"Well, wake up, and I won't have to scalp you," she retorted, feeling guilty.

Jason's eyes finally focused on her, and his expression became one of stark horror as he grabbed the comforter back and clutched it to his chest. "Elise! What are you doing in here?"

"Your parents sent me to wake you up," she replied, and realizing what was wrong with him. "Oh my God, Jason, _breathe_. It's not like I haven't seen you without a shirt on before."

"I'm just not cool with you ripping the sheets off me when I'm only wearing boxers," he informed her, sounding as prissy as a twelve-year-old girl.

She snorted. "Coulda been worse. You could've been wearing your Snoopy pajama pants. Besides, dork, I've seen you in swim trunks."

"That's different," Jason insisted. "Anyway, I'm awake. Will you please leave so I can get dressed?"

Somehow Elise had never realized he was quite this squeamish. It made for a nice diversion from everything else. "Nope, I think I'll stay and watch the show," she teased.

Jason scowled and tossed a pillow at her. "Get out, perv." Laughing, she did, only pausing to tell him that breakfast awaited in the Whites' room.

…

General Zod faced the five men warily. He had learned to read human body language very easily. The more primitive species was more expressive than Kryptonians, their gestures more exaggerated, and that made them easy to understand.

It also meant that he couldn't deceive himself about the group's intentions. They meant to harm him if they could. Luthor had always been a little lax in policing his security staff, but now that Kala Kal-El was proving more effective with the AI, Luthor was clearly less concerned about Zod's safety.

They hadn't outright attacked, but they were blocking his way with an air of anticipation. Perhaps these men simply needed a sterner warning than Luthor had given them. Zod told them calmly, "This is futile. You know you cannot defeat me."

"Oh, can't we?" He had picked out the leader of the little group, the one whose hand had been blistered by his heat vision on the police baton. That was the man who now took a step forward, a predatory smile on his face. "You've outlived your usefulness, old man. I think we can do anything we damn well please."

"Then you are a fool," Zod told him silkily. He didn't allow his own body to betray his tension, standing at parade rest while he watched them dispassionately.

The man just grinned and held out his hand. In his palm was a small box, which he opened to reveal a shard of kryptonite. Zod felt the all-too-familiar wave of nausea and weakness sweep through him. "You aliens have a problem with this stuff, don't ya? All your powers just fade away around a stupid piece of rock."

That wasn't precisely true, but Zod held his tongue. If the men thought that kryptonite rendered him powerless, they would be unprepared for an attack. But before he could move, a new voice spoke from behind the men. "Unfortunately for you, I am not as affected by kryptonite as he is," Kala said, stalking up to them. The men whirled, and the smile she gave them made their leader's fierce grin seem juvenile. She met the leader's gaze and stared until he looked down. "Put the crystal away, gentlemen, and go find something useful with which to occupy yourselves."

Cowed, they turned away, and Zod held his ground, forcing them to file past him on either side. He met Kala's eyes with a slight smile. She paced to his side, a flash of fire in her eyes. "Your intervention was most timely," Zod murmured.

"Your gratitude is accepted," Kala replied, and they both turned to go get breakfast. They walked leisurely, knowing that no one in the compound dared mess with both of them.

She was definitely on his side now. It was well worth the trouble he'd gone to, lurking in the halls to confront that specific group of men and thus create the opportunity for Kala to rescue him. Zod's master plan proceeded efficiently.

…

By the time the kids got back to the Whites' room, the plans for the day had been established. Those few moments without Elise had been enough for them to talk openly, Clark finally agreeing to drive to the hotel. It would only take a couple of hours, and then he could head out to fly over the surrounding area while secure in the knowledge that the kids were safely ensconced in the hotel. Lana had called ahead and sweet-talked the desk clerk into letting them check in early.

Leaving was just as hurried as the rest of the morning had been so far. Clark pushed them all, wanting to get moving _now_, but everyone kept their tempers in check. The idea was that Lois would drive, Clark would rest, and Richard and Lana would follow. Jason wasn't fast enough to get in the first car, so he and Elise got left to the Whites.

Richard eyed the departing rental car and shook his head. "I give it half an hour," he said.

"Until we catch up with them?" Jason asked, tilting his head to the side.

Richard didn't reply, tousling his son's hair. "Load up, kids, let's put some miles on this thing. And best of all, we won't have to look at it once we're inside it."

That got a tired laugh. The car rental places had been nearly sold out, and Lois had gotten the halfway respectable dark blue coupe. Richard had to make do with a sedan that happened to be a particularly eye-watering shade of metallic burnt orange. At least it had a decent engine, something that could keep up with Lois' lead foot.

Elise sat in the backseat, keeping quiet, occasionally looking at her cell phone and wondering how she'd explain all this to her parents – which she would eventually have to do. Not even a naïve fifteen-year-old could expect to stow away on a plane headed halfway across the country and _not_ have her parents find out.

Jason would have liked to go back to sleep, but his stomach didn't want to settle down. Maybe it was the cinnamon bun he'd wolfed down … or maybe something was going on with Kala. Jason had always resisted any attempt to proclaim he had a 'psychic connection' to his twin, but still, he generally knew what she was up to, with a few disastrous exceptions like New Year's Eve. He shut his eyes, firmly telling himself that it _had_ to be the cinnamon bun. He knew better than to eat something so sugary first thing in the morning.

Lana had just taken the first pills for the day: antibiotics to ward off infection, and a pain pill. The latter had just begun to kick in, creating a comforting, if false, sense of distance from everything. She resented the drugs at the same time as she understood how people could get addicted to them.

Richard just focused on driving, on getting to Hawthorne. They knew Luthor was somewhere along the southern border between Nevada and California, and Clark had covered about a third of it so far. The hope was that he and Lana could do the research, trying to narrow his search, while he covered the skies and Lois checked up on a few leads on the ground.

Except for the shush of tires on pavement, the car was silent as they drove, none of them feeling much like conversation. At least, until Jason's sharp eyes spotted a car stopped by the roadside, and a figure walking toward them. The distance masked both until they got closer.

"Twenty-five minutes," Richard sighed, glancing at the clock. "I called it."

Only then did Jason realize that was Mom stalking toward them. Now he could make out Dad standing beside the other car as well, and his stomach plummeted. Were they already fighting?

Richard pulled over next to Lois and rolled down the window. "Hey baby, wanna ride?" he called.

"Not now, Richard," Lois snarled back as she stormed up to his door. "Here. Take the keys and go ride with Mr. Passive-Aggressive so I don't rip him a new one."

"I'll go," Lana said before Richard could reply. "If you don't mind, Lois."

The reporter sighed and stalked around to the passenger side. "Can you even drive after taking those pills?"

"No, but Clark can," Lana said as she got out of the car. When Lois went to give her the keys, Lana caught her hand and held on. "Lois. Take a moment and just take a deep breath. Please?"

Lois sighed in annoyance, but did it, and some of the tension went out of her shoulders when she took that deep breath. Lana smiled. "That's better. Don't worry – we _will _find her, Lois. Now hop in; I'll walk to the other car."

"Thanks," the reporter muttered as she sat down.

Jason and Elise in the back seat just stared, wide-eyed. Lana waved Richard on, and he pulled back out onto the highway. "Lois…" he began, but she cut him off.

"If you're going to lecture me, I don't have time." Her voice was brittle, her gaze fixed on the windshield.

"Oh, we have two hours, Lois," Richard said, keeping his tone gentle. "I could fit in two, maybe three lectures, plus some generalized complaining."

She looked over at him, and her expression was equal parts hurt and mistrustful. "You talked to Clark last night."

"Yeah, I did, but now I'm talking to you." Richard reached over and put his hand on her knee, giving it a familiar squeeze. "And we were together long enough for me to know you won't take my marching orders anyway, so I'm not even going to bother trying to tell you what to do." With that, he turned to conversation toward the future, asking Lois about her researching plans for the day and the other information she'd gleaned so far.

…

"We're downloading the new data now," Stanford said nervously. Luthor and Mercy were both watching over his shoulder, their gazes fixed on the monitor. At the moment it displayed a satellite map of southern Nevada. If everything went well, a series of red dots would soon appear on that map, plotting Superman's approximate path of travel and current location. It could only be approximate; alpha wave signal strength might vary among Kryptonian-human hybrids, and their equations necessarily used Kala's data to extrapolate values for Jason. If his signal were stronger or weaker than hers, it could skew the results.

On the other hand, if the boy was here, he was likely close to his father, so the direction should still be accurate. Stanford tried not to think too closely about what this meant – all he'd wanted was a chance to study those fascinating crystals, and he'd done that. He now knew more about Kryptonian crystals than any other human being, and he felt obscurely proud of the knowledge. The price, however, was knowing that his employer intended to kill every remaining Kryptonian. That didn't sit well with Stanford, but then, what other choice did he have? He'd made his decision to fall in with Luthor a decade ago, and nothing could take that back now.

The screen flickered, and the pattern of dots appeared. Stanford couldn't help gasping; Superman was _close_, no more than three hours away by car. That was only minutes for him, though.

"They're both staying relatively still, and close to the highway," Mercy pointed out. "Maybe they're traveling by car, for some reason? Saving their strength?"

"It could be," Luthor murmured. "It will take him a while to find this place. Regardless, he's much closer than I'd like him to be. Stanford, it's time to initiate the fallback plan."

The geologist startled a bit. He hadn't heard the fallback plan mentioned in several years. "Sir?" he asked.

"Take the best of the scientists – the top thirty percent or so – from each division with you to the secondary facility in Australia," Luthor said. "Tell them they're to get everything up and running so we can bring it online to run backup to this facility. One way or another, I should be joining you there shortly."

_Now_ he remembered. The lab in Australia was similar to this one, but it held only a skeleton crew in charge of backing up the data from Nevada. It could completely take over operations in case anything happened in Nevada, and if Luthor felt this facility was threatened, he had planned to send his best and brightest to Australia. That way if something catastrophic occurred, they would lose only the security staff and the under-performers.

Stanford supposed he ought to be glad he was going to be far from the coming fight, but he was also saddled with choosing which of his team would get to join him in safety. As he rose to leave, Luthor added something casually that chilled him to the core. "Make sure you stop by the cryolab and take representative samples with you."

"How many, sir?" Stanford asked, trying not to show his trepidation. He hated the sterile room with its nitrogen-cooled containers.

"Three samples of each of the cell lines," Luthor told him. Stanford grew even more worried; last time he'd checked, there had been only one cell line. What exactly were Luthor's biologists growing down there? And how much sleep would he lose over the answer, when he found it?

"In the meantime," Mercy was saying, still looking at the map, "we should do our best to see to it that the fallback plan never has to become primary. Perhaps it's time we set a few roadblocks in the path of their search."

Luthor nodded. "We know roughly where they are, it shouldn't be too hard to intercept them – and we have assets in Hawthorne."

"And since our other efforts have been … less than successful, I think I'll handle this myself." Mercy grinned, and Stanford turned to go. The blonde was utterly ruthless, and proved it with the statement that followed him out the door. "I'll need the handheld alpha wave tracker, Lex. I don't want the alien swooping in at the wrong moment while I'm dealing with his family."

…

Clark watched Lois storm away, aggravated. All he'd tried to do was make up, at least a little, for last night. After everything Richard had told him, he knew he needed to start trying to bridge the widening gap between himself and Lois.

In the gentlest tones he could manage, he'd said he didn't want a divorce. Her reply had been to coldly state that _he_ was the one who brought it up first. Clark had sighed, thinking he couldn't even try to _apologize_ without getting a slap in the face for his pains, and then Lois had yanked the car over to the shoulder and stormed out of it so fast he'd thought at first that she'd seen something important as they drove.

But then he'd heard the door slam, seen the furious set of her shoulders, and known she was angry at him. He got out of the car, wanting to keep her in sight even though he decided not to approach her. Richard's car wasn't far behind them, and soon Lois was trying to get Richard to switch with her. Clark winced slightly. He didn't particularly want to tell the younger man how his attempt to patch things up had failed so spectacularly.

It was Lana who got out and started walking toward his car, and Clark's heart fell even lower. She knew him very well, and she had high expectations of him. Clark hadn't really had a long, serious conversation with Lana since she'd dressed him down in front of the entire family and friends for losing his temper with Lois. Now he wasn't looking forward to another session of _that_.

Once Lois and Richard had passed him, he got the spare key from the glove box and backed the car up to spare Lana the walk. She slid into the passenger seat, saying, "I hope you don't mind driving. I already took a pain pill."

Clark just nodded. He'd planned to rest on this trip, but it seemed that fate was laughing at his plans lately. "It's fine," he said shortly, waiting for the lecture to begin.

But Lana didn't say anything to him, just leaned her head back and watched the road ahead of them through half-closed eyes. Her silence made Clark more and more anxious, until he finally got irritated enough to break the silence himself. "Look, I know you're upset with me," he said, and the rest of the words came pouring out as if that were a cork. "You expect better of me, you always have, and I've always tried to live up to that higher standard. I'm a _hero_, after all, I'm supposed to be better than anyone else, I'm supposed to be above all this. Well, darn it, I'm sorry I can't just bounce back and forgive Lois right away. She cut a deal with _Luthor_, and of all the psychopaths who've tried to kill me, he's the only one I'm actually afraid of. My God, I still have nightmares sometimes! So excuse me if I find it a little difficult to accept the fact that Lois bargained with him and kept it a secret from me for our entire marriage!"

He hadn't been able to look at her, keeping his gaze on the road, and when Lana spoke at first he couldn't understand what she said, it was so far from what he'd expected. "What?"

In the same gentle tone, Lana repeated, "Clark, you're mistaken. I am the last person who expects you to be more than human. You're just as fallible and human as any of us, and I'd be very worried if you could take this calmly."

Somehow that made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel. "I'm _not_ human," Clark all but growled.

"Yes, you are," Lana told him, laying her wounded hand on his arm. "I know you, Clark – I've known you longer than anyone but Martha. We ate paste together in kindergarten, remember?"

That was long, long ago, but when the memory surfaced it made Clark chuckle in spite of his tension. "It was Pete's idea. He told us both it tasted like lemonade."

"And we believed him, more fools us," she replied fondly. "Clark, trust me. You _are_ human in all the ways that count. You were raised by _us_, not Kryptonians, and from talking to Lois and the twins I know you have some fairly significant deviations from normal Kryptonian psychology. Like that fact you haven't run screaming from the car at being touched." She squeezed his bicep gently.

Clark wasn't mollified. "But I'm a superhero. I should be better than this – I shouldn't be this furious at my own wife."

"You're not furious, you're hurt – and you're taking a page out of Lois' book by turning that pain and the fear of Luthor into anger." Lana rubbed his arm, soothing some of the tension. "Clark, your powers don't make you who you are. Not all of the Justice League has superpowers, but they all have the drive to try and make this world a better place. I can't say you'd be out there in a cape if you'd been born human, but I know you would be helping somehow. You're a hero, and that comes from the heart – from your very human heart. The powers you have just make some things easier."

She was right, he realized. Bruce Wayne's only superpowers were his insatiable desire for justice and his apparently unlimited bank account, yet he was a founding member of the JLA and widely respected, even feared, by other heroes.

Lana continued, "Everything you're going through right now is perfectly understandable. Though I'm sure Richard reminded you that Lois would do anything – _anything_ – if she thought it would protect you and the twins, that doesn't make it much easier for you to handle."

"No, it doesn't," Clark agreed. "Not even when I know that I have to put this behind me. If Lois and I are at odds, it's a perfect opportunity for Luthor to drive us further apart. And I don't want to lose her. No matter what she's done, she's still my wife, and I love her."

"She loves you, too. And she made this deal and kept it a secret precisely because she doesn't want to lose you, either."

"So why is it so darn hard to find our way back to each other? Just now I was trying to _apologize_ to her, to make up for being snappish last night, and she completely took it the wrong way." Clark glanced at the speedometer and realized he'd been pressing down a little too hard on the accelerator in his frustration.

"You have to keep trying," Lana told him. "That's ultimately what will save you both. If you truly love each other, you'll keep trying no matter how many times you fail. When Richard and I were having problems, the one thing we never let go of was the fact that we wanted to be together no matter what. As many times as I ripped into him for no reason, as many times as he did something thoughtless, we forgave each other and tried again."

She paused, and he felt the weight of her gaze as she studied him. "Clark, this isn't something you can do once and it will be over so you can live happily ever after again. Life is not a fairytale, no matter how much your love story with Lois has been the stuff of legends. You have to work at a marriage, every day – it might look like you have a perfect relationship to the outside observer, but there will always be little mistakes and miscommunications, things that frustrate you. But you have to stop pushing all that aside to deal with it later. It just builds up until you're so aggravated that you can't handle any of it. _Talk_ to Lois, make time just to be with her."

Proving once again how well she knew him, Lana added, "And if you start to feel selfish, making yourself set aside time for your wife when however many disasters are happening at any given moment, remember that you need her too. Taking that time makes you a better hero, because you can do your job with your mind and conscience clear. You've always needed Lois, just as much as she's always needed you."

Clark sighed. He was normally a very cautious driver, but he took his eyes off the road long enough to meet Lana's gaze and thank her.

…

By the time they arrived at the hotel in Hawthorne, Mr. White had just about gotten Mrs. Lane-Kent completely out of her foul mood. The thought crossed Elise's mind that his relentless encouragement and optimism made him their cheerleader, but the mental image of Mr. White with pom-poms cracked her up too much.

Even better, Mr. Kent seemed to have benefited from Mrs. White's presence during the trip. He was much less short-tempered and snappish when they unloaded the cars, even sparing his wife an apologetic look.

Once at the hotel, they took stock of their lot. They had netted three rooms together, each adjoining, and everyone stashed their luggage haphazardly. "Okay, kids, listen up," Mrs. Lane-Kent said, and Elise turned toward her attentively.

"This is the deal. You are staying here, where hotel security can keep half an eye on you. Hopefully Luthor doesn't know we're in the area, but if he does, he likely won't come after you here in a public place. Basic safety precautions: don't go out on the balcony where you're a sniper target. Don't open the door for anyone, especially not if you hear one of us outside. We've all got our room keys, so there's no reason we'd ask you to let us in."

She looked at the other three adults, then said thoughtfully, "In fact, if we are coming in, we'll call out the password to you so you know it's us and we're alone. The password will be … Bagel's full name. Got that?"

Elise nodded; she'd been around the family long enough to know that the sweet-tempered little beagle had been a nippy puppy, and was sometimes still affectionately called Bagel Bites after the snack food. But Luthor couldn't be expected to guess that.

"We're going to leave the adjoining doors open, so if someone does try to get in, hustle your butts to the last room and get out by the stairwell. You should be safe surrounded by people in the lobby." With the safety lecture concluded, Mrs. Lane-Kent hugged and kissed her son. "I love you, Jason. I wish you were safe in Smallville instead of here, but you're too much my son for me to be surprised."

"I love you, too, Mom," he replied, hugging her back tightly.

Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with leave-taking again, but Mrs. White decided she had a few final words to offer. "I know both of you came out here with honorable intentions," she told them. "But we'll be happier knowing you're as safe as you can be while we're all in the same state with Luthor. In the meantime, it hasn't escaped my notice that we're leaving two teenagers alone in a hotel room."

Elise felt her cheeks heat up with her blush as Jason's jaw dropped. But the designer wasn't finished. "You want to be treated like adults? Here's a chance to prove you're worthy of it. This is _not_ a good time to resolve your differences and take advantage of the lack of supervision."

Jason was turning an incredible shade of red. "We _know_ that," he stammered. "Geez, Lana, that's the furthest thing from my mind! And we're not even dating!"

"Good boy," she told him, and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading into the other room.

He turned to Elise with a look of such utter mortification that she couldn't help snickering a little in spite of her own embarrassment.


	38. Getting Out of Reverse

**Sorry to be running a little behind, my dears. We're finally ending the busy season at my job and now maybe I can get settled down, rest, and start to get things back to normal around here. I keep looking back over the last few months and wonder how on earth Anissa and I have managed to stay half-assed on-time. Bear with us, all. HUGE things happening in the next couple of chapters and I know that there are people getting antsy. I promise, we're in the final arc of the story and we have quite a few eye-openers left to go. We know exactly how it goes from here. Be ready.**

* * *

Martha Kent was trying to hide the chuckle in her voice as she watched Perry White's young son had his first interactions with livestock. "I wouldn't if I were you. Chickens are not like puppies. They don't like being chased, Bryan." The little boy looked appropriately chagrined, and the hefty white hen stalked off, clucking aggravatedly. Martha managed to shoo Bryan back indoors with a quiet sigh.

The first day, everyone over the age of fifteen had been tense and worried, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The younger kids, of course, had been excited by the change of pace. Kristin visited Smallville frequently, and Michelle had been there several times, but the farm was a whole new world to Bryan, and all of the kids were delighted by the deep snow. At least the Pioneer Center was closed for the season and they didn't have to worry about nearby neighbors who might just be spies for Luthor.

On this second day, it seemed as though Luthor wouldn't attempt a strike at them, and the grownups began to cautiously relax their vigilance. Everyone in Smallville assumed it was just a family gathering, except the Langs and Hubbards, who knew about Kala's kidnapping. Martha hadn't told anyone about their extra insurance: the JLA was in the area, keeping watch over the family. She didn't want that news to make Lucy or Loueen grow complacent, but it eased her own heart.

The three young children, however, were getting fractious. Kristin missed her family and moped around, eyeing Martha sadly. Michelle wanted her daddy, but she at least had her mother and sisters to keep her occupied. Bryan, without his father around, started to get mischievous. While his behavior brought Kristin out of her blue funk, it was a little harrying for everyone else.

Lucy and Loueen were having quite a time of it, but fortunately the children were all relatively well-behaved. Martha sighed quietly as she watched through the kitchen window, stealing a moment of relative peace before heading back inside.

Last night after the kids were in bed, Lucy had sought her out for a heart-to-heart. The sweet-natured blonde had been having trouble with the realization that her big sister had made such a deal with the devil, never mind what she'd said to keep Lois' spirits up. Martha had reflected that ten years ago, she might've been the first to condemn Lois' choices. But having known that headstrong young woman for so long, and having befriended her mother, Martha understood all too well. All of them – Lois, Ella, and Martha herself – would do just about anything to protect their families.

Her phone rang, and she answered it. "Clark?"

"Hi, Ma," he said, sounding infinitely weary. It hurt her heart to hear it. "How is everyone?"

"We're okay; don't you worry about us. Safety in numbers is working so far. How are _you_, son?"

Clark answered with a quiet chuckle, "I'll make it. We're about to start searching – we should be pretty close, considering the amount Luthor has invested in this area."

"I suppose I don't need to tell you, but I'm your mother, so I'll say it anyway. _Be careful_." That at least got a chuckle from him, and she asked gently, "How are you and Lois holding up?"

"About the same." His voice was cautious now. "Ma, it's… I've got too many other things to think about right now."

Martha's silver brows drew together in a worried frown. "Son, I don't mean to stick my nose in, but there's a lot of pain between the two of you right now. Both of you are going to have your work cut out for you in healing that."

"Tell me about it," he muttered, and Martha chose to ignore his obvious sarcasm and do just that.

"You're feeling betrayed, and that's never easy to deal with. It hurts even more because this happened so long ago, and you never knew. You might even feel a little foolish for not having guessed earlier." He was silent, but Martha knew her boy, and knew that this was a considering silence, not an outraged one. "Have you wondered what Lois has been going through?"

His voice came back as a rasping whisper, making it evident that Lois was somewhere nearby. "Sure, it must have been such a burden to lie to me."

"It was," Martha told him. "I know how she feels. Clark, I have to lie to Ben almost every day. And if he ever found out, I'm sure he'd feel just as betrayed as you do. I never dealt with an enemy of his, largely because he doesn't have them, but I've kept a huge secret from him for all the years of our friendship, and through our entire marriage. He'd have a right to feel betrayed, and I know it. I chose to lie, to keep secrets, to protect him and his sons and his grandchildren. The fewer people who know the whole truth, the safer all of us will stay."

Clark didn't reply, and this time Martha sensed a little more truculence in this silence, though he was still thinking about what she'd told him. After a pause, he finally said, "Ma, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

"I love you, son," Martha told him, and as he hung up she closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer for him, Lois, Jason, and especially Kala, and the rest of the family caught in the tide of madness Luthor had sent surging over them again. _Ella, if you could pass on a good word to Him, I think our children sorely need it._ _How I wish you were here with us now._

…

It had started about ten minutes after the adults left and showed no signs of stopping. After sitting in the chair by the window without a word, Jason had started pacing, occasionally staring at the door. From her vantage point on the edge of the bed, Elise had watched him go from one side of the room to the other until her stomach started to get queasy. At that point, she was lying on the bed on her back while she stared at the ceiling. She couldn't really blame him; both of them were already getting pretty tired of this whole 'stay inside and stay safe' thing. But with a crazy man out there gunning for the whole family, you couldn't really argue with the adults' logic. "Hey, your impression of a deranged tiger at the zoo is perfect, you can quit practicing."

Despite being aware of his mood, she wasn't quite expecting the level of unfriendliness that came from his direction at that. It was rare to see Jason this wound up and she wasn't exactly thrilled to have been here on the occasion that it came to light. "Thanks a lot," he muttered angrily, and finally threw himself down in the chair. He glared at her as if _she_ was the cause of all his problems, and Elise just rolled her eyes at him. Leave it to Jason to be a typical boy at a time like this.

The discomfort of the situation, of forced confinement when something urgent needed attending to, just grew as they stayed where they were. Knowing that Kala was somewhere in one of the nearby towns, subjected to who knows what, while they were sequestered safe and sound, didn't help their consciences. Shame started down its usual path toward resentment. They might have started arguing, but Jason's phone rang, a welcome distraction. He scrambled to answer it with the expression of a drowning man who has suddenly discovered a life raft floating at his elbow. "Hello?"

The response was immediate and thankfully all-too-familiar. "Hey, _mano_, I'm going stir-crazy over here." He could hear the anxiety in Sebast's voice all too easily since it mirrored his own. Catching Elise's eye, Jason put him on speaker phone as Elise made her way over to stand by him. "I haven't heard from you two all day. Where are you? Have you found her yet?"

As soon as the words were spoken aloud, both teenagers felt their voices dry up. There was no way either of them wanted to admit what the current state of affairs were. Doubly so since the Latino boy's usually cocky, smooth voice had a trace of trapped-rat anxiety to it. In the end, Elise found her voice first. "Yeah, well, we ran into a little problem. They found us when we landed for a refuel and now we're under house arrest at the hotel," she said, wincing and rushing her words to prevent the reaction she was expecting. "Mrs. White was _not_ happy when she found me, and pretty much everyone wanted to strangle us. Things are not pretty over here on that score."

Silence on the other end. Again, the two shared a discomfited look. Not a good sign. "But they didn't send us home," Jason interjected finally, filling the pause on the other line.

The reply came an instant later, sounding disbelieving and more than a little confused. "So, wait. You're telling me you're stuck in the hotel? What you're telling me is that they lock you in or something?"

Jason felt like sinking through the floor. He could tell already that nothing he could say would make them sound any less lame and cowardly. Clearing his throat, the boy braced himself for what he knew he deserved and told Kala's best friend the truth. "No, but they told us to stay here. We've got to be close to Luthor, so Mom and Dad made us stay put where it's safe."

Several seconds of silence followed, enough that Jason checked the phone to make sure they hadn't lost the connection. When Sebast spoke again, it was to mutter a few words in Spanish that weren't in Jason's textbook. "Are you _kidding_ me?" he exploded. "Whatever happened to Jason 'I have to find my sister or I'm gonna freakin' Hulk out or some shit' Kent? You headed out there to kick ass and take names! What happened, did you accidentally leave your _huevos_ on the plane or something?"

The boy colored at that; he had known that Sebast was going to be irate, but that was a low blow. "Whoa! Sebast, you don't get it! You're not here! Y'know, this is dangerous!" Jason exclaimed. Elise stood next to him, staring wide-eyed from her ex to the phone.

"_¡Aguacatao!_ I didn't cut my goddamn hair so you could sit in the hotel room with your tail between your legs like a bitch! Dammit! Elise! Elise, what the hell? You were supposed to keep him on target! What are you doing, making out or something when you're supposed to be finding _mi _Kala?! The longer you're out there, the more you'll be explaining this to your parents when they find out where you are!"

Elise swallowed heavily at that, her discomfort like a stone in her belly. Once she had finished helping Lana and before Mrs. Lane-Kent came into the hotel room, she'd made the decision to call her parents by cell phone last night. It had still been early enough that she caught them before they could call the house. Holding her breath and praying that she wouldn't slip up, she'd reassured them that things were fine and asked if the trip that been good so far. She had only half-heard their responses, so scared that a background noise would give her away, but she made all the appropriate sounds before stifling a yawn and begging off the phone with quick reminders of affection. Elise felt awful lying to them; she never given them any reason to think she would do something this insane. Their trust had kept them from suspecting she wasn't actually _at_ home, but eventually they would find out. And she was most assuredly not looking forward to _that_.

But if they thought Sebast had said his peace, they were wrong. "You know what? I knew I should've gotten on that plane and left your ass at home, Jason! You made it sound like you'd use your freakin' psychic twin powers to find her, all you had to do was get to Nevada. So I took the heat for you and Elise, I got your aunt givin' me the goddamn cop eyes, I got bitched out by everybody here, and for _what_? Nothing?"

Jason looked as though he'd been sucker-punched in the stomach. Seeing that, Elise overrode him stridently. "Sebast, you don't know what's going on. This Luthor guy is _psychotic_ and he's after the whole family. We thought we knew what was going on here; we only thought we did. It sucks that you got chewed out, but it was the chance we all took knew that was gonna happen. Jason's right. Seriously, you have no idea; you're not here…"

That had been the wrong thing to say. "You're damn right I'm not there!" Sebast roared back. "'Cause if I _was_, you two _atorrantes_ wouldn't be sitting on your asses in a hotel room, we'd be out looking for my girl! _**Go find my Kala**__ or I'm hitch-hiking the hell out there to find her myself!_" With that, he slammed the phone down, leaving Jason and Elise to stare at each other speechlessly.

It was only when the operator's hollow voice informed him that he needed to hang that Jason cleared his voice again, sounding embarrassed at himself. "Wow. He must be feeling _really_ guilty."

"Yeah, I think that's a sure bet." Elise looked down at the phone, mildly surprised it hadn't melted. She knew Kala was Sebast's best friend, she knew the two were much closer than she was with any of the girls she'd called her best friends through her school years, but she had no idea it was like _that_. "I just … wow."

"He's got a point," Jason said with a deep breath, a serious expression stealing over his features. "We _should_ be out there looking for her. It's the whole reason we stowed away on the plane and got ourselves in so much trouble. I know it's not what Mom and Dad want us to do, but they need every free hand they can get. The sooner we figured out where Kal is, the sooner we can get her out of there."

"Yeah, but do we even know where to start looking?" Elise asked doubtfully.

He grinned at her then, the first real smile since all of this madness began. "If Mom left her laptop here, which I think she did because she printed out all the notes down in the business center, then yeah, we can get their list."

"Doesn't she have a password?" Elise asked. He only chuckled, though at what private joke she couldn't tell. At least Jason had a purpose again, and he headed into the next room with a determined light on his eye.

…

Her husband had just closed his phone when Lois gave a final unconscious nod to the gruff voice in her ear, so engrossed in her conversation that she was totally unaware of worrying her lower lip. "Thanks, Perry. I'll try to keep in touch. Yes, I promise. 'Kay, 'bye." Turning to the others, Lois' posture was more confident, a determined glint in her eyes. "Okay, guys, research paid off. The old man gave me a list of places that belong to Luthor or one of his aliases. Clark, I'm giving you the ones outside of town. I'll take this warehouse and a couple of the others nearby." She wasn't even looking at them now, absorbed in the task at hand. Without another word, Lois took a sheet of paper out of her briefcase and recopied her hastily-scrawled notes from the conversation with Perry, deftly adding in the information Bruce had sent her last night.

There was an anxious silence then, all expecting her to continue to expound upon this newly-gleaned information. Her only response was pen scratching over paper. All three traded looks before Richard made a face. Neither of the other two seemed to want to rock the boat, which left him asking in the lightest tone he could, "So are you going to let us help, or do we have to tag along and pester you?"

Her hazel eyes flicked over in his direction then, the glance cast at him normally reserved for whenever the twins asked a plainly foolish question. "We know Luthor's somewhere in the area. But local resources can give us more information than what we gathered long-distance. If you two can hit the department of records and try and find some more concrete leads, I'd appreciate it."

"Which leaves you playing Lone Ranger," Richard responded, his disapproval creeping in despite his best intentions. He should have known, especially after last night. The guilt was eating at her again, so of course she'd try to overcompensate for it by taking the lion's share of the work. "Lois, it's not a good idea. We're safer if we stick together."

"We both know I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," she shot back, and opened her jacket to show him the Ladysmith snug in her shoulder holster. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed. "Look, Richard, I'm being as practical as I know how. Think about it. Neither you or Lana are armed or used to doing the dirty work, so I'd rather you didn't join me in the breaking and entering."

Clark had been watching her warily throughout this speech, choosing that moment to speak up. "I'd rather you didn't go off alone."

Quick as lightning, hazel eyes locked on cerulean, a flare of heat there before she looked back to her notes. "What's wrong, you don't trust me?" Lois said, almost casually, but the way she was avoiding his gaze now showed the brittleness her voice concealed.

His blue eyes went stormy, but his reply was precise and devoid of emotion. "No, I just don't like handing Luthor an opportunity like this again. But you'll do as you please anyway, so there's no point in arguing." With that, he took the list she had just finished and disappeared, the speed of his flight stirring up a miniature sand storm.

Lois closed her eyes and sighed. _Beautiful. We can't even speak without hurting each other._ Already she could feel her head aching, her stomach roiling. How the hell had they fallen into this nightmare? And how much longer until they woke up?

While she wasn't looking, Richard slung his arm around her shoulders and yanked her close for a hug. She staggered slightly, taken by surprise, before glaring at him. Before she could even begin to rail at him for taking advantage of her lack of attention, he just smiled down sadly. "Be safe, Lois. Especially when you've just sent air support off on another mission."

Despite her determination to stay strong, stay focused, the uncomplicated love she saw there undid her enough that she didn't swat him. "I will," Lois murmured, taking the strength her ex was trying to give. They stood there a moment in silence before Richard kissed her hair, quick and light, and he and Lana got into their car, leaving Lois alone with the list. Once they were gone, Lois made herself lock down and think only of the job at hand. She was exhausted, tired to the bone of skirting the issues between herself and Kal-El, but none of that was important. Now, none of the rest of it mattered until Kala was home safe.

Setting out in the general direction of the buildings, Lois let everything but the chase fade away. This had gone on long enough. It was time for a little payback, and she was more than glad to finally be bringing the fight to Luthor.

…

Perry hung up the phone, wishing there was something more he could do for Lois. He'd already given her all the notes from the last time they investigated Luthor, and just updated her on everything he'd managed to scrounge from the archives this time. It still didn't feel like enough. She had a general direction and some leads to check out, but what he really wanted to give her was a map with an X on it that marked the spot where Kala was being held. If only it were that easy.

Jimmy, who had stood beside him through the call and added a few words of encouragement to Lois, tried to look on the bright side. "You know Ms. Lane and Mr. Kent. That team is unstoppable. And they have Superman on their side."

"Yeah," Perry said. "The last time Luthor tangled with them, he had to go underground – literally. This time let's see if Superman can drop him back in prison, and someone can bring me another Pulitzer-winning story."

Laurel looked a little worried. "You're sure you don't want to tell her?" she said.

"Tell her what?" Jimmy asked, glancing at the Chief.

"About the stock price," Perry sighed. "How high is it now?"

Laurel didn't even want to say it out loud, handing Perry the printout instead. He winced, and Jimmy's eyes widened. "Lois is worried enough without this hanging over her head," Perry said.

"I talked to Kay," Laurel told him. "She's run through all the money she can get her hands on, and broke into Lana's personal funds. The Whites now have a controlling interest in the paper, but Luthor can still get a majority if he keeps on buying like this."

Perry wished for a cigar to chomp on; it would be a welcome bit of comfort just now. "I already took a loan from my retirement fund," he finally said. "Don't need it anyway – I'll be working here as long as I can bellow across the bullpen. I can't go much further, though." In spite of what he'd just said, Perry began to wonder how much cash he could get out of his life insurance policy. He had to leave something for Loueen and Bryan, of course, but there ought to be _some_ cash available…

Jimmy frowned at that. "Where are they getting the shares?"

"Everyone wants to sell at these prices," Laurel sighed. "I overheard someone in the break room say he was going to sell his shares from the employee stock purchase plan if the price went up another ten dollars."

"Well that's just stupid." With that, James Olsen turned on his heel and stalked into the bullpen. Laurel and Perry exchanged apprehensive glances as he climbed up onto the center group of desks. Bill Freizon and Gil Truman looked up bemusedly, some of the other reporters starting to whisper among themselves.

"All right, listen up, people" the redhead called, making it apparent that he'd been listening to Perry's bullpen bawl for years. When the photographer chose to project his voice, he was most definitely heard. "I'm sure a lot of you have noticed that our stock price is going up. It might seem like this is a good time to sell some of your shares and make a little money. Well, it's not."

He paused and looked around the room. Olsen had everyone's full attention with this little stunt; the _Planet_ crew might have expected to see Lois jump on a desk and give a sermon, but not Jimmy. "The reason the price is so high is because there's a run on our stock. Someone's trying to buy up enough shares to gain control of the paper." The whispers increased to murmurs, and Jimmy dropped the bomb on them with perfect timing. "That someone is Lex Luthor."

Absolute shocked silence for a heartbeat, then an outburst of angry noise as the assembled reporters processed that. While they were still humming like a hive of wasps, Jimmy raised his voice to continue. "Some of you might not have been here long enough to know who Luthor is. Let me introduce you: this is the guy who tried to kill Superman. The same guy who led General Zod and the other Kryptonian criminals _here_ to kidnap Ms. Lane, because he knew that was the best way to capture Superman. Also the same guy that kidnapped Ms. Lane's twins when they were six years old, and used _them_ as bait to try and kill Superman _again_." The murmur rose to a dull roar; some of the reporters were too young to remember news from those days, and the rest remembered it only too well.

"He's got a fixation on Superman," Jimmy said, raising his voice still louder. "And we're Big Blue's number one news source, his chroniclers. This is Superman's paper, people. Are we gonna let his enemy steal us away?"

There was no pause followed his question. "NO!" came the reply throughout the City Room.

Jimmy nodded in satisfaction. "All right then. All of you pass it on; let's get the word out to the others. Don't sell your stock, and if you can afford to, buy some more. Every share we own is one Luthor can't get his hands on. Everything the _Daily Planet_ has stood for won't go down in flames for one man's obsession with destroying a hero."

That seemed to be enough, and he hopped off the desk, ignoring the buzz in the background. Perry caught the younger man's eye and nodded. "Well done, Olsen."

…

_Thank god for lock-picks_. It had taken twenty minutes to get the tumblers to move just right, but if there were any clues to Lex's plans here, it was well-worth the aggravation. The warehouse seemed to be unoccupied when she threaded herself through the small space she opened between the doors, but the reporter kept her guard up anyway. Muzzle tilted up, she carried her gun in front of her, hearing focused on the slightest sound as she moved as soundless as she could through the corridors created by stacks of crates. Just what was _in_ those crates and where they were headed, she'd love to find out, but her curiosity had to take a backseat until she was reasonably certain she really was alone.

As she crept up to a corner, Lois found herself cursing the poor lighting and her height yet again. She could barely see down the long corridors, and there were far too many pools of shadow. Worse, the acoustics were weird – her own footsteps echoed back for several seconds after she stopped moving, no matter how silent she tried to be. It all added up to a bad situation, her journalistic instincts on high-alert. Had the stakes been anything other than possibly finding her daughter, she might have gone back for reinforcements.

Or she might not have, Lois admitted to herself. She had never been known for backing down, and the more intense the pressure, the more boldly she pushed ahead. And the pressure was as intense as it had ever been. Luthor had had Kala for days now; the longer they delayed, the worse things would be for her. Lois' patience, never limitless, was already razor-thin. So instead of doing the prudent thing and waiting for Clark, she made her way deeper into the dimly-lit warehouse.

There was every indication that no one else was there, but the hair on the back of Lois' neck was still standing straight up while she made her way down the corridors. Trusting her hunches had rarely failed her; when the feeling started to drive her to distraction, she'd pack it in. Until then, however, she'd just stay alert. There was too much on the line to do otherwise. With that thought in mind, Lois turned to the nearest stack of crates and started scanning the labels.

Luthor wouldn't be stupid enough to put a direct address on supplies for his underground lair, but there was every possibility that she could discover a few better hints. The reporter quickly found a few of the locations she already had in her notes. Her suspicions strengthened, she searched faster, taking notes on every possible scrap of information.

She had made it deep into the middle of the warehouse, checking out some crates from Silver Peak, when all of her internal alarms went off without warning. Asked about it later, she couldn't say what had alerted her – a faint sound, an odd shadow, or just plain old newshound's intuition – but she was whirling around with the gun held out, finger on the trigger and tensed for a fight.

The gun was ripped from her hands before she could fire, and even as Lois jumped backwards to get some maneuvering room she recognized her adversary. The realization chilled her before the utter fury heated her blood. "You," she snarled as Justine Davenport – or Mercedes Graves, if that was even her real name – squared off against her. The blonde smiled coldly; Lois had never liked that smile, and it infuriated her to know this woman had been _in her apartment_, laughing at her while she placed listening devices. She should have listened to that nagging feeling she had had around this woman from the first.

The ferocity of that anger added weight and speed to Lois' next move, a roundhouse punch aimed at Mercy's sneering grin. She'd always known that hand-to-hand fighting skills were worth having, having learned that lesson on Daddy's knee. Now those stolen hours in the gym proved their value, as Mercy's expression suddenly became one of surprise as she just barely dodged the blow. With all the background Lex had to have on her, somehow Mercy must have missed the notation of her having been a General's daughter.

Teeth bared in a grim smile, Lois let the missed connection spin her into a flashy backwards kick. Mercy was taller than she was, but while standing Lois could kick as high as her own head, good enough for a painful blow to the throat or chest. Mercy ducked beneath it and tried to close in, but Lois let her frustration fuel the fight. She would _not_ be taken down so easily. Calling for Kal-El didn't even occur to her; the reporter was too furious to think that logically. Every ounce of her being was locked onto this fight and the need to exact a little retribution.

They traded blows, some connecting, some missing, and in the fury fueled by betrayal, Lois barely felt any of them. Some distant part of her mind knew she'd have scraped knuckles and bruises, but at the moment all the General's Daughter cared about was winning. Any injuries here were nothing in the face of the pain she'd been feeling ever since Kala had disappeared. For the first time in many days, anxiety and fear were gone, blasted away by sheer rage. She had needed a way to drive the guilt away, channel the emotional agony into something, anything constructive. And now she had it. The bitch that had stolen her little girl was right in front of her and it was like a balm to attack her with everything she had. Lois tossed her hair out of her eyes as she edged toward Mercy, hazel eyes dancing dangerously with dark humor. Oh God, there were no words for how freeing this was. "I'm almost glad Lex sent you. You have no idea how much I needed this," she taunted before landing another blow.

The blonde closed in again, and Lois figured out her strengths and weaknesses even as she found herself in a joint-lock with her right arm at the point of breaking. Mercy Graves was a mixed-martial-arts master, deadly in her own right, and she had the kinds of moves that were impressive as well as effective.

Lois, on the other hand, had learned some jiujutsu, some aikido, some tae kwon do, and even some judo, to which she'd added the police training when she'd done those articles. She'd never had time to pursue a single form to perfection, and in recent years had relied on kickboxing classes at the gym to keep in practice. Her overall style, however, was best described as Metropolis Street Brawl: whatever worked, no matter how low-down dirty she had to get. She could pull off a fancy flying kick, or take off a shoe and beat an assailant over the head with it, whichever seemed most appropriate to the fight. And if Mercy had put the time and effort into learning that pretty elbow lock, well, she might not have had much experience with street fighting.

Turning toward the pressure on her arm, Lois stomped down hard on Mercy's foot, scraping her shin in the process. That was painful enough to loosen the blonde's grip, and with a sharp twist and a kick toward her vulnerable ankles, Lois was free again. Mercy broke away with a muttered curse, and they stood off from each other warily. Lois was cornered; this corridor ended in a blind wall of crates stacked to the ceiling. Mercy seemed determined to block her in. Lois just grinned fiercely. "It must suck to realize you're getting your ass handed to you by a woman _how_ much older than you are? Maybe you should've stayed home."

…

Over time, their talks had drifted away from Krypton and toward Earth. At first Kala had barely noticed when Zod drew parallels to current events, but eventually he made his position plain. She had scoffed at the High Council's willful ignorance one too many times, and Zod rebuked her. "And do you not close your eyes before the truth? Your entire society depends upon oil, a substance which you know is limited, and which grows more expensive and more difficult to acquire each year. The usage of that oil, in everything from fuel to plastics for packaging to fertilizers for the crops you consume so wastefully, upsets the balance of nature to the point where you are changing the very climate of your planet. Pollution poisons your air, your water, and your soil. And you generate so much waste that entire swaths of land are given over to its storage. In the midst of your greatest ocean there lies a region where the natural flora and fauna cannot survive, because the sheer volume of non-biodegradable plastic garbage you humans have allowed to wash into the sea crowds them out. These problems are not unknown, not hidden, but your entire society pretends they do not exist so long as you can continue your accustomed lifestyle. How, then, are you so different from Kryptonians?"

Kala's spine stiffened. Zod had often implied that he considered her a Kryptonian, one of his own people, and now he seemed to be blaming her for the actions of the entire human race! "I _am_ Kryptonian," she told him haughtily. "And not all of the humans on this planet are so blind. Many of them are working to prevent further damage and to repair what has already been done."

"Too little, and too late," Zod replied. "Even so, you cannot deny that the vast majority would rather pursue their petty entertainments than pay attention to much more important issues. They claim such pride in their representative government, but many in this country cannot name the officials who were elected by their state, even as they can rattle off the names of a dozen so-called celebrities whose only contribution to your society is, at best, a bit of music. All know the president, but few have any understanding of who actually makes decisions closer to home."

"Ignorance is, unfortunately, common," Kala admitted. "Many seem to believe that the world as they know it cannot end. Rather like the Kryptonian High Council, I must admit."

He seemed to accept the apologetic tone. "The difficulty lies in the peculiar nature of bureaucracy. One man working alone can discover much. A few people collaborating on their goals can achieve great things. Once the group grows larger, however, more opportunities arise to become sidetracked. Inevitably they become mired in interpersonal arguments and accusations, losing sight of their original goal. This is why progress moves so slowly in republics such as the one in which you presently live."

"It is so, but that is the price of living in a democracy. Each of us has a voice, even those too apathetic to exercise their rights, and progress cannot be made without the consent of all." Kala shrugged and leaned back in her seat, letting the artificial sunlight soak into her skin.

"It is a pity, then, that so many waste their birthright. It is an embarrassment, however, that your supposedly fair government is so easily swayed by funding. I have often found it amusing that your currency bears the legend 'in God we trust', for as I see it, the currency itself is worshipped more often and more fervently than any deity."

"Corruption exists," Kala admitted. "But eventually justice wins out. It will always be thus, if those who desire justice remain committed and do not waver."

Zod leaned toward her slightly. "How difficult it must be for them to persevere, when they see their efforts ruined time and again by greed and apathy. Surely many of them despair, and surrender the fight, allowing profit to eclipse justice."

Kala wished she had some way to refute that, but with so many reporters in the family, she knew it was true. All too often money and power managed to sway politicians, and the people who only wanted to serve the country's best interests frequently got discouraged after being swept away by the tide of lobbyists. It was hard to get all of the legislators to agree on _anything_, considered how many different viewpoints they represented. When the issue was unpopular or the bill was detrimental to their interests, the difficulties multiplied exponentially.

"Perhaps it would be wiser, in time of crisis, for someone to take command," Zod mused. "Surely there are provisions in your laws for such situations?"

"Martial law," Kala replied. "The President can declare martial law and send in the troops, basically taking over. But that's only for emergencies, and I think Congress has to approve it."

He shook his head. "And they will not approve without much discussion. No, if anything is to be accomplished swiftly, it must be the effort of a single individual, or perhaps a very few."

Kala was no fool; she saw where he meant to lead her. Arching her eyebrows sarcastically, she said, "Such as yourself?"

Zod didn't seem flustered, meeting her eyes steadily. "Perhaps not I, though you cannot fault me for wishing not to see another planet crumble beneath my feet. Regardless, no human has proven capable of uniting the entire race to right their wrongs before they become irreversibly fatal. Even now, when the planet fairly groans under the weight of the human population, when nearly all the water is tainted by chemicals or sewage, when one portion of the human race dies of morbid obesity while another portion starves, when the very lungs of the planet are being clear-cut, when the air around the most ancient mountains on this continent is disfigured by a haze of pollution and the earth's own blood is leeched from oil sands to feed the legion of vehicles belching forth yet more toxic fumes, even _now_ there is debate. And not merely questions of how to solve these many problems, but some even question that the problems exist. Will they bicker until the last instant before the apocalypse, when only the most drastic solutions will save them? Or will they still be arguing as their own folly swallows them whole, as Krypton was devoured by Rao?"

"It is not all as dire as you claim, and progress _is_ being made. Slowly, but it is happening. And the tide of public opinion is turning toward a more ecologically sound lifestyle," Kala pointed out stubbornly.

"Jor-El had his followers, and some were designing ships capable of transporting our people away from the impending disaster. But he was never given the time to implement those plans. The High Council fought him up until the very last moment. He was to be arrested for treason on the very day he sent your father to this planet. Even as the planet shook with earthquakes, they denied their fate and sought to silence one who wished only to save his people."

"How do you know this?" Kala asked. She'd never heard _that_ little tidbit from her father or grandfather.

"I have made many attempts to access the information in the crystals, and learned much more than I was asked to discover," Zod told her. "The fact remains that had Jor-El not turned me and mine over to the Council, our people would have lived. At that late date we would have had to evacuate the planet, but there would be no Last Sons or Daughters of Krypton. A dictator can accomplish what a democratic council cannot, for he has no need to shepherd quarreling factions into alignment."

Kala had heard something like that before, a saying about how Lenin made the trains run on time or some such flippant remark. Everything Zod was saying was technically true – the question was, had humanity reached the point where they needed an all-powerful alien to step in and save them? Was that the real reason her father had been sent here, to do what human politicians couldn't? Her mind spun with the possibilities.

…

None of this was going the way Mercy had planned. Once she'd realized she had Lois cornered and alone, she had thought it was time for a little intimidation. With the way things were going with the Lane-Kents, it was less likely that Lois would call on her husband for help. Either way it was a winning scenario; if the alien did show up, Mercy had a few small pieces of kryptonite handy, or if he didn't, she could administer a beating and deliver a warning to Lois.

She'd known that Lois had some training, but the reporter wasn't a dedicated martial artist, and Mercy had thought she could easily overpower the older woman. Lois' jeer was unfortunately correct: one petite reporter was doing what a bunch of ex-cons couldn't. Surprise at Lois' ferocity had thrown off Mercy's rhythm, and she was scrambling to keep up.

Worst of all, she couldn't kill Lois. This would've been over in moments if she'd drawn a gun or a knife, or perhaps even if she could use some of her single-strike takedown moves. Luthor would never forgive her if she truly harmed Lois; he wanted that victory for himself.

Well, if her fists couldn't win this fight, her voice might. "Honestly, Lane, do you think you'd be winning unless I _let_ you?" she scoffed, disguising how out of breath she was. Lois' only reply was a sarcastic laugh – and a furious kick that threatened to sweep Mercy's legs out from under her. At least she could dodge that and get in a kick of her own before continuing, "I didn't come here to kill you; I came to warn you. Back off, let it go, or instead of losing one child you'll see your whole family slain."

Lois snarled at her, implying several creative but anatomically impossible things, and Mercy finally managed to land a disabling blow to the solar plexus. Lois went down, too blinded by rage to dodge the last punch, but Mercy wasn't sure of her yet. The last thing she needed was to slip in close and wind up severely hurt, so she kept up the flow of acid words. "Come on now, Kala's been causing so much trouble in your family the last year or so. Isn't it something of a relief to have her gone? Can't you see how much easier things would be without her?"

Mercy knew full well that Lois would never stop – she'd keep coming after her child until Luthor killed her. The so-called warning was meant to inflame her guilt; Mercy had watched the family long enough to know that Lois was unsure of herself as a parent. The implication that she would actually _prefer_ her daughter kidnapped would wound her, and throw her even further off balance.

Sucking in a gasping breath, Lois spat, "I'll get Kala back if I have to turn the whole state of Nevada upside-down to do it. She's my _daughter_, you sick psychotic bitch."

"Not for much longer," Mercy commented, taking a wary step away as the reporter lurched to her feet. She might be faking her level of pain and incapacitation. "Surely you've heard of Stockholm Syndrome? Another day or two, and she'll be ours. Quite frankly, she was always a little closer to our side of things than to her father's, don't you think? The wardrobe should have been a hint."

The words had even more effect than Mercy expected, as Lois abandoned caution to attack her with an incoherent snarl of rage and more ferocity than she had yet displayed.


	39. In The Path of the Tempest

**What can I say other than hold onto your seats? You've been waiting to see what's behind the curtain, what all the build up was for? :D It's time, ladies and gents. Keep all hands and feet inside the ride, because we couldn't stop now if we tried.**

* * *

_A Warning to the people,  
The Good and the Evil  
This Is War  
To the Soldier, The Civillian, _

_The Martyr, The Victim  
This is War  
It's the moment of truth _

_And the moment to lie  
The moment to live _

_And the moment to die  
The moment to fight, _

_The moment to fight, _

_To fight, to fight, to fight…_

~ **30 Seconds to Mars, **_**This is War**_

_**

* * *

**_

Had Jason thought harder on the situation he was likely to get himself into, maybe a few things would have turned out differently. Once all was over and done, the boy admitted that he had no idea what had gotten into him beyond the need to get out of the hotel room after Sebast's call. Part of it, he knew, was the fact that he had gotten permission of a sort. All he knew was that he and Elise would be more help finding Kala than being locked up in here. Jason wasn't stupid; if he thought he was going to get grounded before sneaking out here, the penalty was going to be far worse for risking the wrath of Mom for snooping into her files for clues. His stomach lurched a little at the thought of the confrontation, especially after all that they had been through in the last few days. Making up his mind with a deep breath, he had just booted up Mom's laptop when he heard Elise at his shoulder. "Wait, you know your mom's password? With the way she's all cloak and dagger about stuff, I figured anything hers would make Fort Knox's security look like a joke. Especially after the listening devices."

_Nope, that's actually Uncle Bruce. But Mom's a close second._ He couldn't resist a little grin when he looked up at her. It was a little nice to be in control of something right now. "No, but I have a pretty good idea how she thinks. And there's a hint, usually." When the password screen came up, sure enough, it had a button beside it that read, "Forgot your password?" Drawing in a deep breath, he prepared to cross the line before he clicked that and saw the hint his mother had left herself. "Birthplace."

Well, that should be easy if you knew the inside angle on the family history. Without a pause, Jason confidently typed in 'Weisbaden', only to have it rejected. Okay, he should have known better. That wasn't something that couldn't be looked up in public records. "Hmm. Maybe it's not her birthplace, maybe it's ours?" he muttered, typing in 'Paris'. That, too, was rejected, and Jason couldn't blame his mother. It was another piece of information that was easily accessible. Fortunately he would have at least three more tries.

Next he tried 'Krypton', then 'Kryptonopolis', only to have both also rejected. What else could it be? He'd put down the birthplaces of the immediate family… Wait. He'd tried all four of their birth _cities_ and in one case the birth _planet_, but birthplace could mean a lot of things. One of those was very easy to remember but not something most people would guess, and Jason groaned as he thought of it. Luckily he'd seen where Mom had entered in his and Kala's baby book and knew precisely where he'd been born: the American Hospital of Paris. Typing in the first two words, without the space, finally got him into the computer. "Yes!" he shouted as it loaded up the desktop.

Elise couldn't help but laugh, popping him lightly on the shoulder in congratulation. "All right here, Crash Override. You just bought us a one-way ticket to getting our butts kicked by your mother. So, now that we're in, where do we look?"

"Let's see if we can find her notes." Jason was already clicking the start menu to get the list of recent documents. All of them had cryptic names, and Jason started to open them at random, trying to find the information Lois had collated this morning.

While he did that, though, the computer was running through its normal startup routine, including connecting to any available wireless network. As it happened, the hotel offered free WiFi, which Jason didn't even realize was connected until he saw a message pop up on the lower right-hand corner of the screen: 'You have 1 new message.'

Without a word, Jason and Elise glanced at one another. It could be anyone, Uncle Perry, Uncle Jimmy, but it also could be another lead. _How much deeper are you willing to go to find your sister? Is Kal worth it? What would she do if it was you in her place?_ Biting his lip, Jason took another deep breath before he clicked on it. Mom would be livid if she found out he had gone as far as reading her email; but then, she'd be just as infuriated if she found out he'd used the computer. If he was already in trouble, there was no sense in stopping now, right? And it was easier for six to search than four.

The email program opened, and the new message was in bold. Jason sucked in a deep breath when he saw the sender: **Bruce Wayne**. He remembered that conversation in the car, when Lois had received an email from Uncle Bruce that contained more leads, and clicked on it eagerly, only to find a very sparse message within, giving latitude and longitude coordinates. He opened a new tab to enter that information and find a satellite image of the location it described.

"Wait, Bruce Wayne?" Elise looked down at him with skeptical amusement, having read over his shoulder. "He's that nutjob in Gotham who totaled his Lamborghini last month. I remember it because it was all over TMZ and my Mom wouldn't stop talking about it. Something about the 'Idle Rich' and the break-down of American society." She rolled her eyes then, giving a snort of laughter. "So why's the current King of Tabloids emailing your mom?"

"He knows people, which is kinda useful for Mom." Jason colored, hastily trying to cover for Bruce. That was all he needed at this point; Bat-Clan wouldn't be inclined to forgive a slip of the tongue. As grateful as he was for the lead, being pounded like a tent-stake by either his uncle or Dick wasn't a thought he particularly cared for. "Mom interviewed him years ago, he and Lana know each other from when she lived in Gotham, so they sort of keep in touch now and then."

Elise was looking at him funny, which was not a good sign. For the first time since he'd met her, Jason really wished she wasn't half as intelligent as she was. "I never figured your mom or Lana as the type to hang out with drunken playboys."

Jason made himself chuckle dismissively, sounding almost natural. Uncle Bruce would _slaughter_ him if his identity got leaked because of this! "He's okay when he's sober – and his networking skills are out of this world. Besides, Luthor's in big business now through L-Tech, so if anyone's in position to dig up the dirt, it's another CEO."

That seemed to satisfy Elise, or maybe she was just distracted by the satellite image now covering the screen. It was a fairly close view of some kind of concrete ravine, so Jason zoomed out. With only a couple of clicks he realized that what he was seeing was on the outskirts of Hawthorne, the very town they were staying it. "So what _is_ it?" he muttered.

Elise had the answer. "I think I remember hearing about this in geography class last year. If they're what I think they are, they're man-made ravines. A lot of towns out here, especially so close to the mountains, have them in case of flash floods. The desert can't absorb the rainwater, so it would just wash right through town if they didn't build those drainage canals. The better question is, what does it mean?"

Jason nodded thoughtfully, clicking around the screen to zoom in on details close to those coordinates, looking for anything that might be a clue and wishing that Uncle Bruce didn't have to be quite so cryptic.

Finally he zoomed in on a dark spot on the image, and at that resolution the software told him it was a reservoir. Between that and the town itself was a water treatment plant housed in a dam-like structure. "So the runoff from the mountains goes there, and they store it and treat it and pipe it into the city for people to use," Jason murmured.

Elise nodded. "And if they get a sudden storm, they can sluice the extra water into the drainage system." Both teens paused, and then she spoke softly. "Hey, Jason. How much of that facility would you guess is underground?"

"It even comes with its own water source. Perfect villain's hideaway. Better yet, we can _walk _there in less than twenty minutes." Jason grabbed his cell phone and programmed the coordinates into its GPS function, making mental notes on the best way to approach. He'd be using his x-ray vision once they got close anyway.

"Shouldn't we get one of your parents to come with us?" Elise asked.

That would be the sensible thing to do, but Jason couldn't quite make himself be sensible. The possibility of finding Kala and somehow spiriting her away from Luthor _himself_ was a siren song in his mind, but he still had some sense of caution and restraint. "We're just going to look," he told Elise – and himself. "If nothing's there, then Mom can cross this off her list. And if something _is_ there, we can call her or Dad, and get them to look into it."

Trying to convince himself that was all he was doing, Jason put Lois' laptop in the lockbox and headed out to save his sister.

…

Plans within plans within plans, an endless spiral of contingencies and backups: that was how Luthor worked, and it had always served him well. Before Kala had ever been kidnapped, he had thought of the possible consequences and set out to mitigate them. Hence the listening devices, the spy in the family, and the various people in his employ poised to rain destruction upon the Lane-Kent family. So far things hadn't worked quite according to plan, with everyone alive and still coming after him, but he had planned for this course of events as well.

Luthor had made several assumptions in crafting his fallback plan. One was that the Justice League would be aware of his involvement and coming to Superman's aid in the eventual fight. That obviously wouldn't go well, so he had moved to neutralize them. There were plenty of other people in the world who shared his views, after all, people who resented the often alien superheroes who towered godlike above mere humans. Luthor had spent years cultivating them: a few thousand acres of rainforest purchased for Pamela Isley, some technical details of Kryptonian crystal mirrors for Sam Scudder, a few embarrassing facts expunged from Dr. Crane's professional record, some customized weapons for General Eiling … all of them owed him something, some calculatedly personal trifle.

In return, Luthor didn't ask much, only that they be willing to do him a favor. One small favor, for which he would provide the financing and any necessary raw materials. Most were more than willing to let him pay for something they would've done anyway; all he was really doing was choosing the timing. It was a win-win proposition for everyone, except the JLA.

When the alpha wave tracker had first shown Superman in Nevada, Luthor had put his allies on standby. With this morning's discovery that the alien was so close to his base of operations, Luthor had put the fallback plan into effect.

By now, the rest of the JLA would be turning away from their comrade to handle problems closer to home. Luthor had recruited at least one person with a specific grudge against each of the main members of the League, and a few more who hated that organization's very existence. With all of them causing mayhem at the same moment, Luthor would be almost certain of facing his own particular nemesis one on one.

Well, not precisely one on one. That would hardly be a fair fight, given the alien's advantages. Fortunately Luthor had an alien of his own, and Zod had a personal score to settle that virtually ensured he would take the opportunity to destroy Superman no matter how much he loathed Luthor. While the two Kryptonians were distracted, Luthor could take out both of them and rid humanity of its greatest threat.

All the while, he knew that everything important to him was backed up at the facility in Australia. Life was good, and Luthor hummed a jaunty tune while watching Superman's progress on his computer monitor.

…

Now Richard realized more than ever why Lois had had no interest in doing the research, preferring to scout out the warehouse. Already an hour into their task, he and Lana had not been finding much they didn't already know, which frustrated the hell out of Richard. He had patience, when he needed it, but this was just too discouraging when his daughter was out there somewhere.

He sighed, leaning away from the microfiche reader to rest his eyes. Always the comic relief at family gatherings, Richard had been striving even harder than usual to inject a little levity into the tense situation, regardless of how he felt about it. And though he thought he had everyone except Lana fooled, he was just as angry and out of sorts as Clark.

Kala was his daughter, too. Richard had taught her how to swim and how to ride a bike, scoped out restaurant menus weeks in advance to be sure he could take her there, applauded her singing even when her voice was in that uncertain preteen phase, and been a father to her since she was four years old. Not knowing where she was or if she was all right was slowly killing him. But he kept up the façade, never letting himself fall into despair or rage. He owed Ella Lane that much.

The afternoon before she passed away, each member of the family had spoken to Ella privately. Richard stayed in the waiting room, comforting the rest, and he honestly hadn't expected her to call for him. But when Lana came out, dabbing at her eyes, she'd kissed his cheek and whispered that Ella wanted to speak with him next.

He had gone in, feeling a little nervous. From the moment he'd met Lois, Richard had known that he would never have a chance with her unless he made a good impression on her mother. As much as Lois loved to defy her father, she adored her mother and relied heavily on the older woman's wisdom, so if Ella disliked him, not even his considerable charm would be enough to recapture Lois' favor. He'd been nervous at meeting her, and ever so slightly off balance in her presence ever since, even after he and Lois had split up. Part of that was probably the feeling he'd always had that while Ella did like him, she had some significant reservations about him.

When he'd walked into the hospital room, Ella had smiled and thanked him for being there with her. Her voice was a little raspy, and Richard had poured her a glass of water and held it while she sipped. For a moment, she looked up at him, her hazel eyes as intense as her daughter's. At last she'd said, "Richard, I want you to know I never thought poorly of you. My only reservation was that I didn't want Lois to hurt you the way I knew she eventually would. You didn't deserve that."

"She belongs with Clark," he'd murmured, and it no longer pained him the way it had for those first couple years. Clark was Lois' destiny; it was just that simple. "Her heart was always his. Of course, I didn't know it back then."

"She does love you, though. And so does Clark," Ella had told him.

"So does Lana," Richard added with a waggle of his eyebrow that made Ella chuckle.

So it surprised him when she had suddenly become serious again. "You are one of the most relentlessly positive people I know, Richard. One of the things I didn't like about the end of your engagement to Lois was the way it made you suspicious and bitter. You're an optimist at heart, and you help even my little cynic look on the bright side every now and then."

"I try," he'd replied, thinking that life had been extraordinarily kind to him. He had excellent health, a gorgeous and wonderful wife, _three_ fantastic kids, a job he enjoyed and didn't strictly need, as well as an extended family that included _Superman_. How could he not believe that life was essentially good?

"She's lucky to have you," Ella had said then, patting his hand, and Richard had grinned like a little kid at that praise. Ella's hazel eyes had looked into his solemnly just before she asked. "Will you watch over her for me?"

"Gladly, but she's got her super-powered protector," Richard replied, with no bitterness.

Ella had chuckled softly. "He can see through most things, but sometimes I don't think he can see all the way through her. I know my daughter's skull can be as dense as lead, sometimes. Richard, you know her in a few ways he doesn't, and since the two of you are no longer a couple, you see more clearly than he does. And you'll have to watch her – don't listen to what she says. Lois is going to grieve for me terribly, but she'll never admit it."

"She won't show weakness," Richard had agreed, thinking of all the times he'd admired Lois' strength and never guessed about the insecurities that lay beneath her fierce determination. He knew better now, having observed her from a slightly less intense perspective.

"And she'll need to be reminded to laugh, and love, and not let my death cloud every moment of every day. Will you do that for me, and for Lois?" Ella seemed perfectly calm about her own death, and Richard had to bite his lip. He would _miss_ her, dammit, in spite of the way he always felt just a little anxious around her. Not many women would take so well to the guy who'd married another woman less than two months after breaking up with their daughter. And Ella had always made a point of welcoming him, inviting him to family events, making him and Lana part of the Lane tribe.

"Yeah, I'll do that," he'd replied and his voice had been unexpectedly husky.

Now Richard felt like he hadn't quite kept his promise to Ella. He should have realized sooner just how bad things were getting between Lois and Clark, should have stepped in sooner and made Clark talk about what was bothering him. He should have made more of an effort to rattle Lois' cage, force her to acknowledge her grief and deal with it rather than suppressing it until it bubbled up in a thousand little anxieties. It would have been a lot easier to deal with relationship troubles without the added complication of Luthor's plots – and maybe if Lois and Clark had been back in sync, Kala would never have run away.

Speculating on what he _should_ have done wasn't getting them anywhere, though. At least he'd found a couple of good leads to explore. Richard sighed, wincing a little at the headache he was developing. "Hey, hon?" he called.

Lana was on the other side of the shelves that held the property deed books. "Yes?"

"Do we have any Excedrin?" It was looking at all that fine type that made his temples throb, but damned if he was going to buy reading glasses. Richard wasn't _that_ old yet.

The redhead gave a little smile, as if she'd heard the thought aloud. "In the car, I think," Lana replied, coming over to him. "It's about time for my antibiotics, too. Shall we take a break?"

"Yeah," he sighed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. There truly were days where Richard didn't know what he'd do without her. Throughout the whole ordeal, she'd been determined to be just as involved with the search as the others, even after the attack on her. Sliding his arm around her shoulders as they left, he kissed the top of her head. Lana just glanced up with a smile, which Richard returned gratefully. With her at his side, he could do anything, even find a missing girl in the middle of the desert.

They stepped out of the records room, Richard waving at the clerk they'd talked into letting them in the records room. That was as much Lana's doing as his; while Richard had the silver-tongued charm, Lana had the absolute sincerity. No one could look at her and think she had some nefarious scheme in mind.

They walked arm in arm to the parking lot, Richard alert for any wavering on Lana's part. No matter how much she protested that she was fine, he couldn't help being extra vigilant. So when she stopped short, her eyes going wide, he at first thought something was wrong with her. "Are you okay?" he asked urgently, looking for signs of what it could be.

She replied with another question, green eyes trained on something in front of them. "Why is that man standing behind our car?"

It took a second for Richard to process that, and then he turned to look. A man in a jacket and jeans stood behind their rental car, looking around. Richard acted on instinct, pulling Lana back into the lobby of the building, but his eyes never left the stranger loitering outside. Who was he? Another of Luthor's hired killers? Richard's headache was gone, and protective anger uncoiled itself from somewhere deep inside.

…

Flying ever-larger spirals while examining the ground, Kal-El had been widening his search pattern. Desert sand gave way to stone riddled with old mines and mineral deposits, with here and there some silver that had remained undiscovered. His hearing was tightly focused on the particular rhythm of Kala's heartbeat, hoping against hope that he would be able to find it and follow it to wherever she was. Every hour, every day longer that he couldn't find her tore at his heart, tore at the determination that she was all right, only a captive. Jason swore he would know if she was hurt, always had, but just having his child in the clutches of his old enemy burned. They had no way of knowing what could be happening, no way to control the situation at all. Every fiber of his being was locked into finding some clue, any clue, to where Luthor had her held.

Few things could distract him in that state, but a loud concussive _thump_ got his attention. Kal-El pulled up short, looking toward the sound. Off to the west, he heard a familiar greedy roar, and saw flames shooting toward the sky. "Coal mine fire," he muttered, cursing duty. That was too close to populated areas to ignore, and mine fires had a nasty way of traveling underground.

Even as he flew toward it, Kal-El knew this was one of Luthor's diversions. Unfortunately, the megalomaniac knew him too well. He couldn't ignore the risk to innocent lives and focus solely on his own family, no matter how much he wanted to.

Wait – this might be a good time to call in the League. Hadn't they almost forcibly pressed him to let them help where they could? It was true that they were already keeping an eye out for the extended family, which was more than he could ask for, but with the trail growing warmer in the search for his daughter, maybe it couldn't hurt…

Only when he took out his cell phone, he saw a text message from Oracle marked 'Urgent'. Opening the file, he was shocked to see the code phrase, 'Blackjack tournament now in progress!' That was a call to everyone everywhere to help on multiple fronts. Kal-El listened in on the Watchtower, and overheard calls for assistance going out to several cities. All of the other heroes were tied up in some kind of nationwide crime wave…

…oh, no. Luthor couldn't be _that_ devious, could he? What if while the heroes were uniting to combat crime, their foes had been forming alliances, too? The thought turned Kal-El's stomach to acid. The havoc being unleashed on his colleagues was all _his_ fault.

There would be no help for him now or in the immediate future. He went to extinguish the mine fire, hoping to lose only precious minutes in battling the blaze. Somewhere, something was happening that Luthor didn't want him to know about. Despite the unease he felt knowing that Luthor was causing chaos for the rest of the world to throw him off, a bright spark of hope flared in his chest, and he gave a small smile as he went about the task. They were close now. They had to be.

…

The silence of the warehouse was punctured by the sounds of flesh on flesh and fast breath, neither woman giving the slightest ground as they circled one another. Lois ducked out of the younger woman's reach and got in a nice sharp swing, her elbow connecting with Mercy's cheek. By the force of the blow traveling up her arm she knew the other woman would have a black eye tomorrow. The reporter felt only savage glee at the thought – until she took a hard punch to the solar plexus that knocked the wind out of her and dropped her to the ground.

As she rolled away, trying to catch her breath, Lois realized that Mercy had _let_ her take that last shot, just to get the opening for the knockdown move. It only made her more furious, until she realized the blonde was backing off. Once she was out of range, her voice still breathless, Mercy managed, "Back down now, and I promise you, we'll let Kala go when we're through with her – _if_ she even wants to leave."

Another flare of white-hot hatred. It was almost laughable; they thought they understood her family inside and out? Six months of surveillance, and they hadn't learned a thing. "You're both crazy," Lois managed to gasp. "Kala would never choose Luthor over us." Beneath the pallet of crates beside her, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that gleamed chrome: the Ladysmith. Pretending to writhe in pain, she surreptitiously reached out for her gun.

The taunt that came next was utterly unanticipated. "Who said I'm talking about Luthor?" That caught Lois' attention, the blonde's grin coldly malicious as she savored her reaction. "Lois, you don't know _who_ we're working with. Besides, I must admit that Luthor's rather too fixated on you. We do have recordings of every single word you've ever spoken – or whispered, or moaned, or screamed – in that apartment."

Nausea rolled through Lois then, but she refused to show weakness to her friends and family. She'd_ never_ allow this psycho to see it. Mercy was trying to pull her strings, dole out this little stomach-roiling tidbit to keep her off-balance. In spite of her disgust, Lois wouldn't let her. She laughed instead, hearing a crazed edge in her own voice. "Really? I hope Lex enjoyed it. It's the closest he'll ever get, and you know he's just dying of jealousy. I should be so lucky." Even while her stomach tried to climb up and out of her throat, Lois stayed focused on the gun, just out of reach of her fingertips. Another inch and she'd have it…

Mercy beamed down at her with all the cold impersonality of the moon. "Fortunately for him, I don't suffer from the particular lack of self-esteem that results in possessiveness. A lesser woman wouldn't be so forgiving of Lex for all the times he's said your name."

The blatant reminder brought up her gorge, the memories of how he had done the same thing to poor Katherine a decade ago sickening her. She couldn't hold back a yell of incoherent rage. Forget stealth; Mercy had just gone too far. The reporter stopped even trying to hide the motion as she clawed beneath the pallet. Finally managing to seize the gun, Lois whipped around to fire upward from the floor, but the blonde was already gone.

Wincing from the pain she was just now starting to feel, she sat there and caught her breath. _Just you wait, bitch. You'll get yours. This isn't the end of this. Not by a long shot._

…

All of the drainage canals had signs warning of flash flood dangers. Trespassing carried a serious fine, too, but Jason was well past worrying about that. He and Elise were trying to look like ordinary teenagers out for a stroll, just glancing casually at the steep concrete walls of the drainage canal. That became more difficult once they reached the outskirts of town.

Jason felt uncomfortably exposed. They were the only things moving out here on the flat, sandy plain, except for a cold wind finding its way inside his jacket. "I don't like this," he murmured to Elise. "Let's get down out of sight."

"Do you really think we should be walking down there?" she countered, pointedly gazing at their surroundings. "I mean, they put up the warning signs for a reason."

Jason tried to soothe her with a smile. "Elise, calm down. There are emergency ladders to climb out. At least that way we're not standing up here making perfect targets of ourselves. And the GPS point was in the canal itself."

Elise wavered, but when he strode purposefully to the nearest ladder, she followed him down, muttering under her breath about how getting slapped with a thousand-dollar trespassing charge was the absolute _best_ way in the world for her parents to find out she wasn't home.

The bottom of the canal was creepy as hell; the two teens walked on a layer of fine silt strewn with branches, tumbleweeds, and at least one mummified-looking skeleton of some small animal. Elise stopped looking so closely after that, keeping near to Jason and making sure to spot each emergency ladder ahead. He didn't make fun of her like a lot of guys would, just reached out and caught her hand in his. "You're safe with me." Her heart did a funny little flip in her chest at the serious expression on his face.

Of course she had to blow that off with some sarcasm. "What, you've got Superman on speed dial or something?"

Jason scoffed, running a hand through his hair. It was always kind of funny how he got embarrassed when anyone brought up his godfather. "Yeah, right. I'm the guy, I _have_ to say that. But I expect you to have the sense to run if we need to, not wait for me to pick you up and carry you off."

Elise returned the snarky tone immediately. "And if we have to fight, I expect you to kick some butt right alongside me, okay? I don't know if you even know how to fight, but every girl who lives in Metropolis ought to take some self-defense…"

Another sarcastic snort from her ex. "I'll go you one better. Five years of karate. And sixteen years of Kala." The mention of her name aloud silenced them, both looking awkward, and they kept their eyes on the ground as they moved further along the canal.

The floor of it sloped downward steadily, growing deeper, but so gradually that from the teens' perspective, it was the walls beside them that grew higher. Obviously the closer to the reservoir, the deeper the channels had to be. Further down, the floodwaters would be dispersed along the canal network, running lower, but this close to the source they'd overbuilt to protect against runoff.

What that meant, for Jason and Elise, was that if they needed to use the emergency ladders, they would have to climb over thirty feet. That made him uneasy, but they were getting closer to the coordinates, so they kept on.

The canal they were in joined the main one, which they had to descend five feet to get into. Jason scanned ahead for the next ladder and saw it, then dropped down to the floor of the main canal. "Come on," he said to Elise, who hesitated.

"Jason, I don't like this." Her voice was small, her grey eyes sweeping over their surroundings again.

He stretched his hand up to her, and after a moment Elise jumped, letting him catch her. "We're getting closer. Maybe another five minutes." They moved on in silence, Jason checking his cell phone to make sure they were in the right spot. When they arrived, it didn't seem any different from any other section of the canal floor. Jason scowled; his x-ray vision showed nothing beneath the concrete except sand. Maybe it wasn't under the canal, maybe there was an access door in the side? He looked around slowly, aware of Elise searching the vicinity. Frustrated, he turned in a circle, wishing Uncle Bruce could've put in a hint or two.

Elise stood with her arms crossed, eyes raised far above them. "I don't think there's anything here." Curious what she had seen, Jason followed her gaze. The steeply sloping walls of the concrete ravine were almost sixty feet high at this point.

Sighing in defeat, Jason shook his head. "We'll have to turn this over to Mom and Dad. I guess we might as well go, and hope no one…"

…_sees us,_ was the rest of the sentence, but it died on his lips. Jason's hearing wasn't as keen as his father's, but it was better than any human's, and he went white as chalk so quickly it frightened Elise. "Jason?"

…

The man crouched down, and Richard remembered that their laptop was in the trunk, along with all of Lois' notes that he'd managed to get copied onto it. They'd decided against bringing a computer into the records hall because it might look fishy, but had prudently decided to leave the expensive computer locked up out of sight.

"Stay here," Richard hissed, and headed out the side door. The man might just be an ordinary thief, but they couldn't run any risk of those files falling into Luthor's hands. And besides, Richard was angry, full of frustrated wrath after the kidnapping of his daughter and the attack on his wife. He didn't let himself plan for it, didn't think to call Clark in, just wove through the parking lot keeping some of the larger vehicles between himself and the thief.

Combat training was years behind him, but some things stay in the memory. Perhaps most of the family had forgotten that Richard was a military man; he never had. He had signed up both to serve his country and to learn to fly, but they'd taught him far more than that. What if he'd been shot down? He would need to know how to survive wherever he landed. So he could go camping with the kids out in Smallville, lead them off into the woods with nothing more than a compass and good knife, and they'd pass the night in relative comfort thanks to his training.

It was possible that he could have been shot down over a city, so he'd learned urban survival too. It had more in common with rough country tactics than he'd thought, and he'd come to view the city as another sort of wilderness, one that could be even more savage. At least in the wild, most things would only kill you to protect themselves or to eat you.

In stalking, he'd learned the two C's, camouflage and cover. Not much chance to camouflage himself, not when Luthor's spies already knew what he looked like, so he relied on the cover of the parked cars to circle around his quarry and come at the man from a direction he wouldn't expect. Richard drew on every bit of stealth he possessed, the same skills that let him sneak up on Lois and tickle her, but now he used them in deadly earnest once again.

When he got in position to approach, there were no more vans to cover him, so Richard slipped off his shoes and crept as close as he dared, crouching behind cars. The world had narrowed to him and his quarry, the rest of the environment mere scenery that he wouldn't notice unless it moved. The thief was intent on his work, and Richard braced himself to rush at him, his fury growing at the man's brazen robbery in full daylight. For once he wished he carried a gun like Lois, but he had left that behind when he got out of the service. There were usually better solutions to problems in the civilian world than a few ounces of lead delivered at high speed.

Too late for that. Richard heard the trunk open, and lunged around the corner of the car at the thief. Once in motion, he was committed, putting every ounce of his strength into acceleration. He'd always kept in shape, always been ready for this, though he hadn't known when or where it would happen, and his mind was almost empty except for anger that burned clear and bright as thermite. The man didn't even hear him coming, his socked feet almost silent on the asphalt, and Richard tackled him to the ground in one explosive rush.

The hope that this was just a common thief evaporated instantly as the man fought back, making it clear that he'd had some kind of formal training. He was quick, but he'd lost the initiative, and he could only react, trying to fend off Richard's punches. They scuffled on the ground, Richard using every dirty trick he'd ever learned, and some he invented on the spot. He was taking blows but he didn't feel the pain, didn't realize he'd scraped both knees bloody on the pavement.

One of them was growling, wordless rage chilling to hear, and as the other man grabbed Richard's throat, the sound gurgled. That was when Richard knew it was him making that noise, but he didn't care, butted his head sharply forward and felt the thief's nose break beneath his forehead. Pain should've stopped the other man, but he was running on adrenaline too, and it only broke his hold long enough for Richard to grab his wrist and twist it savagely.

At last an elbow driven sharply into the other man's chin laid the thief out cold, and Richard had a chance to catch his breath. Fury and training seemed to drip from his pores like the sweat that sprang up all over his skin, and as those drained, sanity returned. He was Richard White again, husband, father, journalist, pilot, and practical joker. All that remained of First Lieutenant R. J. White was his knowledge. He tilted the thief's head aside so he wouldn't choke on the blood from his broken nose, then slipped his belt off and wound it around the man's wrists to hold him.

"The police are on their way," Lana said from right beside them, startling him badly. Richard tried to glare at her for not staying inside where she'd be relatively safe, but her next words sent a chill racing down his spine. "Clark isn't answering his phone – and neither is Lois."

…

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Jason grabbed Elise by the wrist, wishing then that he had speed instead of strength. "_Run_," he snapped. She came with him, his grip inexorable, trying to ask why, but within seconds she heard it: water, a roaring wall of it, coming their way.

Too late, Jason remembered how often he'd been warned about phishing emails, that programming existed to mask the true sender's address. Uncle Bruce hadn't sent the coordinates. This was a trap, and he'd run right into it like the amateur he was.

Elise barely managed to keep up, both of them running with every ounce of speed and desperation. The nearest ladder was right after the canal they'd followed to get here, and they got to it in mere seconds. Jason's head buzzed with adrenaline, keeping the part of him that was screaming in terror locked deep inside. He couldn't afford to break down; Elise needed him. Now he regretted bringing her out here, wished he had left her back in Metropolis. She'd be safe with Sebast right now if he had. But since he'd been selfish enough to allow her to risk her life, it was his responsibility to make sure she didn't have to pay that price.

Still, they had fifty feet to climb with a flash flood bearing down on them hungrily. Jason grabbed Elise by the hips and lifted her up over his head, as high as he could reach, ignoring the startled sound she made. That gave her almost a six foot head start, and she scrambled up the ladder, her boots drumming on the metal rungs. He followed a little more slowly, not wanting to run up over her heels. Besides, he might be able to survive being caught in the flood – he could swim strongly enough to keep his head above water, and the flow would disperse eventually.

He could hear Elise panting, could imagine the burn she must be feeling in her arms and legs, but she wasn't the kind of girl to fall to pieces in a crisis. She knew she had to keep climbing in spite of the pain, so she went up the ladder as fast as she could. Jason paused to look over his shoulder, focusing his vision past the concrete walls and the sand they held. The flood was far enough away, they could make it…

Elise screamed above him, surprise and horror, and Jason looked up to see her falling from near the top of the wall. He leaped backward off the ladder, landed sure-footedly on the ground, and caught her before she could break a leg. Caught her awkwardly, nothing heroic about it, one hand on her breast, but there was no time to worry about it because she grabbed his arms for balance and he felt something oily smearing against his skin.

Her hands were covered in something dark, slippery.

Someone had greased the ladder – the same someone who sent them that email.

The flood was coming, too close to try again even if the next ladder was safe.

They were doomed.

Jason put his arm around Elise's waist, lifted her, and ran as fast as he could. He leaped, not up but out, covering more ground with each stride than a racehorse. Maybe it would be enough; if he could get them to where the canal was shallower, he could jump ten or twelve feet straight up and get them out.

He'd forgotten they were in the main canal, not the tributary they'd followed coming in. It continued absolutely level sixty feet beneath the surface of the ground, and the flood roared hungrily behind him. Too late, out of time, and Jason had no other choices left. He screamed in desperation, "_Dad, help us_! _**DAD**_!"

* * *

_A warning to the prophet, _

_The liar, the honest  
This is War.  
To the leader, the pariah, _

_The victim, the messiah  
This is war.  
It's the moment of truth _

_And the moment to lie.  
The moment to live _

_And the moment to die.  
The moment to fight, _

_The moment to fight, _

_To fight, to fight, to fight  
To the right, To the left, _

_We will fight to the death…_

_

* * *

  
_


	40. King Takes Queen

**Seeing as how there are at least a few that have stated that I really needed to just get this thing out XD, I'll refrain from a long intro. I will say that if you have a copy of 30 Seconds to Mars' _Alibi_, I very much suggestion you listen to it through last section of the chapter, starting from Lois leaving the room to shower. I'm seriously considering another fanmix for the section of the fic about to come, as I've been using some fantastic music for inspiration. I really hope that this guy will tide you over until two more weeks go by. BIG things ahead. I just hope the trust you guys have placed in me continues. I will break my rules on spoilers to say that I wouldn't lead you on for this many years to not have a good pay-off at the end. And there's a scene that coming up that's going to kill me to write. But it will be worth it. Trust me.**

**And with that cryptic promise, may I present?**

* * *

Kal-El was deep in the coal mine, focused on the fire, but recent experience had reminded him never to tune out the rest of the world completely. Jason's screams for help cut across his hearing, and horror filled him. They should never have left the kids alone, it was exactly what Luthor wanted them to do. His heart seemed to shatter like crystal, in agony at the thought of losing Jason, too. It was bad enough with Kala still missing. To hear Jason screaming for help was more terror and fury than Kal-El could bear.

Even while he thought that, he was flying, the downdraft from his departure knocking down the flames for a moment. He only had a moment, perhaps two, before the fire grew into a conflagration, so Kal-El flew at his top speed. He was a mirage above the desert sand, a hazy blur there and gone so swiftly no human eye could have captured his image. He homed in on Jason's voice without paying attention to the fact that he'd passed the hotel. All that mattered right then was getting there in time.

Jason was in a drainage canal running for his life from a flash flood – _with Elise_. No more than ten feet behind them, a wall of water threatened to smash both of them against the concrete walls. So close – but he'd still made it in time, and relief washed over him. Kal-El braked slightly, just enough that he wouldn't snap their necks when he grabbed them, and snatched both kids out of harm's way.

He dropped them both on the roof of the hotel, giving them a quick glance to make sure they were both all right. Neither was injured, only terrified, and Kal-El left while Jason was still trying to frame the words 'thank you'. Even though he wanted nothing more than to hug his son right at that moment, grateful that he'd been fast enough to save Jason, he couldn't stay. The coal fire remained to be fought, but thanks to his speed, he made it back before the flames could seize the fuel he'd just beaten them back from.

There was no time to think about what had just happened, no time to be frightened or relieved or exasperated. Kal-El was just glad to know that the kids were momentarily safe, and that their near future contained an extremely stern warning about staying where they were told to.

…

Everything happened so fast that he couldn't keep up. One minute, Jason was praying with all his might that he'd move quickly enough to get himself and Elise clear, the next wind was rushing past his face as his father swooped them up. Mind still trying to catch up to the change in circumstance, Jason staggered a little as they landed. He'd never flown that fast before, or been dropped off without a word. Something must be going very wrong somewhere…

After a moment, the world seemed to solidify again. His shoes squelched when he moved, and he looked down to see puddles forming beneath his and Elise's feet. That was enough to send a chill ran down his spine as he realized they'd been rescued just before the water would have swept his feet out from under him. Close enough to the flood to have gotten his shoes wet. Closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed with enormous relief. He had never been so relieved to be busted by a parent in his life. "That was too close," he shuddered before opening his eyes to gauge Elise's emotional state. "Are you okay?"

What he saw when he turned to her wasn't a real surprise, considering the situation. She was staring at him with an expression of absolute disbelief. It was the word that came out of her mouth that blew him away. "_Dad?!_"

Jason felt himself blanch, blue eye wide with horror. _ Oh, God, I didn't. Oh God. __**Idiot**__! Think fast, stupid – you're already going to be grounded for the year, you don't want to be on restriction 'til you turn eighteen! Me and my big mouth!_ Quickly he grasped at the nearest straw. "He's my godfather. You know…"

Elise, however, was having none of it as she cut him off. "Don't even try it, Jason Kent, you couldn't lie your way out of a paper bag," Elise snapped. "_Dad_. Seriously. You just called Superman _**Dad**_. And then he actually showed up to save us."

Cornered, Jason had no idea how to proceed, so he just plowed forward with misdirection. It had to work. Something had to work. God, this had been such a stupid idea. Mom and Dad were going to kill him. Actually, no, it would be worse. _Please let her listen. Please let her let it go…_ "It's kind of his job to do that. Besides, he wouldn't _leave_ us. Look, Elise…"

She rolled her eyes at him in annoyance. Jason felt sick; she wasn't going to be talked out of it. "Don't start the plausible deniability crap with me. Just how epically freaking stupid do you think I am? You yelled for Dad, and Superman answered. Not only that, you were outrunning a flashflood while carrying me! So either the rumors are true about your mom and Superman, or your dad is really…"

Before she could even finish, Jason sat down in a defeated heap on the rooftop. _How could I have been so dumb? All I wanted to do was help and now this._ Head in his hands, he groaned, "I'm so grounded. They're going to kill me."

…

It had taken a few minutes to get herself together, steeling herself against the various pains, to make it out to the car. The trip hadn't been pleasant, to say the least, and it seemed like everything ached when she collapsed into the driver's seat of the rental. Head leaned against the steering wheel for a moment, Lois made herself push aside the pain. The last few days were beginning to feel like a sadistic version of _**Let's Make A Deal**_. _Just how much pain, anger, and emotional scourging are you willing to endure to keep your family?_

The answer was simple, if a little hard to take. _All. I'm willing to bet all. _

There wasn't time for resting, regardless of how beaten up she felt. If Graves had been here, Luthor had to have figured out their location. None of this mattered right now. She could whimper and whine over bumps and bruises later. Just had to compartmentalize her body's reaction to it and move on. Centering herself, she took a few deep breaths and relaxed her body. Slowly, the worst of it drained away. The rest she could easily ignore, for the time being. Once her mind started to quiet, she couldn't help a chuckle. _God, I'm getting too old for this shit._

It was only when Lois was moving to put the car in gear that she glanced into the middle console and saw the screen on her phone blinking. Seems she had a missed call from Lana on her phone. _Nothing for a whole day and now it's raining psychos. The party never stops today. _Once she was on the road back to the hotel, she returned the call, trying not to get blood from her split knuckles on the rental car steering wheel. "Everything okay, Red?"

The relieved sigh from the other end of the phone didn't bode well. "Thank God you finally called. We had company, Lois. Be careful."

"Too late for that and I'm no good at it," was her immediate and unsurprised response. "I had a little company too, and kicked her ass and sent her running back to her boss. The better question is, are you and Richard all right?" Lois didn't mention the way her left eye felt sore and puffy. Lana would just worry it all out of proportion, especially since they'd likely been in bigger danger than she had. They could count bruises later.

"I'm fine. Richard scraped himself up a little, but he'll be all right with some bandages. Lois, do you have any idea where Clark is?"

"Honestly? Not a clue. I haven't seen or heard from him since we left out this morning." The reporter frowned at the thought. If they had all three been in trouble, why hadn't he put in an appearance?

Lana's next comment made Lois wonder if she was reading her mind. "He's not answering his phone, so maybe he had some company too."

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Lois remembered what Mercy had said. _I didn't come here to kill you; I came to warn you. Back off, let it go, or instead of losing one child you'll see your whole family slain. _The family had divided for the search. Lois to investigate the warehouse, where she had been confronted with Mercy. Richard and Lana, who had been researching, only to be met by Luthor's goon trying to steal their information. Kal-El, who was doing in-air recon and no one could reach. And Jason and Elise … back at the hotel for safe-keeping. Her biggest fear since the kids had stowed away rose up, only her hard-won control stopping her from immediately going into a full-blown panic. If Luthor had both twins… "Lana, you and Richard get in the car. We have to get back to the hotel _**now**_." Lois hung up on Lana and dialed her son's cell phone, praying that he would answer…

…

They'd made a breakthrough today, achieving unprecedented access to the information on cloning. Kryptonians had once used the technology extensively, but largely abandoned it for ethical reasons. While Jor-El would not share much with them about the topic, he'd finally detailed all of the uses Kryptonians had for cloning and the specific case that had ultimately caused them to ban it.

While Kala had questioned the AI, Zod had been providing a rapid translation of its answers. Luthor's scientists were quite good in Kryptonese, but where possible Zod had shaded his translation so as to cast doubt on theirs. Kala had made sure to get enough background information to occupy Luthor's researchers for a few days before making a couple of intentional mistakes that ended the day's session.

Zod fell into step beside her as they left, and one quick glance showed her his approval. She'd timed it just right, and Kala had to hide a grin. Their partnership was working perfectly, and Luthor hadn't seemed to have caught on to that fact just yet.

The man himself was trailing them out of the lab, glancing over the rough copy of the information they'd just acquired. Kala knew better than to glare at him by now; if she and Zod appeared too friendly or too defiant, it would set off Luthor's paranoia, and the less he interfered with them, the easier their eventual escape would be.

At the moment, it was just the three of them and a couple of security guards moving down the hallway, and Kala had nothing more complicated in mind than lunch. Until Mercy Graves turned the corner ahead, walking toward them. Kala skidded to a halt, eyes wide.

The blonde looked like she'd been in a fight. One eye was swelling shut, her lip was swollen, and she had a scratch on her cheek. A little dried blood lurked at the corner of her mouth, and she moved stiffly, every step painful. Kala froze, impressed. Whoever had done that to the Head of Security was one tough bastard.

Luthor saw her as well, and made an oddly choked chuckling sound. "I see you succeeded in finding Ms. Lane."

Kala felt like she'd been kicked in the chest. Mom had done that? But Mercy was here earlier this morning – that meant Mom was _here_, somewhere in Nevada, coming to save her. She couldn't help gasping in surprise and relief, elation soaring through her. "I see my mother righteously _kicked your ass_," Kala gloated.

Mercy glared at her, blue eyes narrowed in anger, but when she spoke her voice was cool and smooth as ever. "Considering that I was under specific orders _not_ to kill her, yes, I did take a bit more of a beating than I'd planned. But your mother isn't as young as she used to be, Kala. She's in far more pain than I am."

Zod murmured in Kryptonese, so softly that only Kala's ears caught it, "So speaks any confident aggressor just handed an unexpected defeat." Kala breathed a little easier. How many times had she heard bullies boast, _You should've seen the other guy!_ Usually right after she'd beaten them up. No one wanted to admit to losing a fight, especially not against what they thought was a weaker opponent.

She smirked at Mercy. "I know my mother. You were lucky to get away with just bruises. If I were you, I'd hide under a rock when she gets here. Mom is a world champion at holding a grudge." On that note, she turned away, meaning to storm off in a clatter of high heels and indignation.

Mercy's mocking voice followed her. "She won't be coming, Kala. You're on your own here until we release you. I managed to convince your mother that the collateral cost is too high to keep trying to rescue you."

Kala wavered, but tried to hold on to what she had always believed. "She would never stop trying. She would never abandon me," she called over her shoulder.

Luthor shook his head slowly. "Everyone has their price, Kala. Hers was in blood. So much has been shed already."

"Liar," Kala said, shivering. Zod waited at her side, close enough to offer comfort without seeming to intrude.

With a smile like the devil's own, Luthor unfolded the newspaper he'd been carrying under his arm all morning. Kala saw the huge bold print letters, and even knowing that this was just a tabloid didn't stop her chest from tightening. _LANA LANG SLAIN_, the headline screamed.

Part of Kala wanted to crawl into a hole and just die. Her mother and father were used to this, being hunted by madmen, and Daddy Richard had his fair share of heroism. But Lana? Luthor had gone after the one person in the family who couldn't defend herself.

Zod touched her arm lightly, the faintest pressure through her sleeve. "Believe nothing," he murmured in Kryptonese. "I will attempt to confirm or deny this news, but put no faith in it yet. Luthor lies. He always lies."

Kala managed to rally at that. Headlines could be faked; somewhere at home she had a fake cover of _Rolling Stone_ with her photo manipped onto it. It would be very easy for Luthor to falsify a misleading headline like that, especially on a cheap tabloid rag like the _Inquirer_. "Why should I believe anything you say to me?" Kala said, her voice gaining strength as she dropped back into the cadences of Krypton. "I will not play your games any longer, Luthor. However, there is one thing you should know. If you truly have managed to assassinate my stepmother, you might as well have walked back into prison and locked yourself in a cell. My family will never stop hunting you."

With that, she succeeded in storming off. Zod waited, watching her leave, and when he was certain she was out of earshot he turned to Luthor. "Your method of convincing her to join us is quite unconventional," he said coldly. "One would almost suspect you wish her to hate us and defy us at every turn."

Luthor chuckled nastily. "I don't care if she likes us – and neither do you, General. The difference is, I know what _we_ want from her. What's your angle?"

"What else? You promised me my freedom if I could convince her to work with you," Zod said, and turned away to follow Kala.

"He doesn't really believe that," Mercy mused.

"I didn't think he was stupid enough to buy it," Luthor concurred.

Mercy nodded. "Whatever he's up to, we'll have to keep an eye on him. Meanwhile, I hope the evacuation is proceeding smoothly. They'll be on their way as soon as they can manage it."

"Good," Luthor said. "Where do you expect them to strike?"

"I found Ms. Lane in the warehouse. If she follows the addresses on those crates, she'll turn up at the aboveground storage area for this facility. We should have some warning, though." She smirked triumphantly.

"So you _did_ manage to plant a tracking device on her," Luthor said with a grin.

Mercy rubbed the corner of her mouth, scowling at the blood there. "It wouldn't have been worth letting her win the fight otherwise." She would never admit to Luthor just how close a thing it had been; Lois Lane had hidden reserves that Mercy had never suspected. It unsettled her to go into the final phase of their plans after discovering such a revelation, but Mercy was a realist. She knew she would never convince Lex to hold back now, when he could almost taste victory. It would be her task to ensure that he didn't overreach himself, and to neutralize any other surprises the family might spring on them.

…

So wrapped up in the potentially never-ending fallout from his slip-up, Jason and Elise both startled violently when a digital sound came from the boy's direction. Both pairs of eyes glanced from one another to Jason's cell. Already not trusting his traitor mouth to open at all, he wasn't really in the mood to answer it. Even more so when the ringtone told him the call was from Mom. The feeling of impending doom pressed down further. He was going to have to tell her. He was going to have to tell his mother that he'd… Jason squeezed his eyes closed, wishing he could have that stupid thoughtless moment back.

But if things were as bad as they had been going lately, not answering could be even worse. Dad had clearly been on a rescue; who knows what other kinds of hell had broken loose? "Hi, Mom," he murmured dully into the receiver, a hand coming up to press against his forehead.

His mother didn't have to shout; the intensity in her voice worked much better than sheer volume. There was an uneasy mix there, anger and fear in equal measure. "_Where are you?_"

The boy took a deep breath before replying, "On the roof of the hotel." _Oh God, she's going to breathe fire. She's never going to forgive me for this._

He could hear her pause, could almost see her look of utter confusion. "The _roof?_" she asked, the disbelief he'd been expecting there.

"Yeah, the roof. Dad dropped us off here. He was in a hurry." Elise was standing in front of him, but he didn't bother to look up at her. He couldn't bear to see disgust in her eyes.

Another pause, his mother's voice sounding almost panicked now. It was too easy to see what was going on in her mind, how she was hoping she had misheard him. Jason felt his stomach lurch, all too aware that he'd have to explain soon. "Us? Is Elise there with you?"

"Yes."

"And _who_ dropped you off?"

Jason could almost picture her elbowing him in the shoulder, trying to remind him to keep the secret. But it was a little late for that now. "Dad did. Mom, I screwed up. She knows." There was a sharp intake of breath on the line and Lois was silent for a long moment. Wincing already, Jason forced himself to elaborate. "I had to use my powers, Mom. Elise knows the secret."

Again, dead silence on the other end of the line. Jason could only imagine what was going through her mind and wasn't sure he wanted to know. "What the hell…" he finally heard her growl under her breath, her voice tight, then immediately added, "Never mind. We'll come up with something. I'll be at the hotel in five minutes. Sit tight; Lana and your Dad should be there soon." With that, there was a dial tone.

Staring at the phone in his hand, Jason felt about an inch tall. All of Mom's years of subterfuge and now… How could he have been so stupid? "Oh God. She's gonna _kill_ me." Sitting on the roof itself now, the boy buried his head in his hands. And if Mom was pissed at how this had gone so spectacularly out of his control, he could only imagine what Dad would think.

The defeated look on his face worried Elise. He'd had enough guts to defy everyone in an attempt to save his sister, had saved her life in that ravine, and here he was obviously being punished for it. It wasn't fair, especially not to a guy who was here because he _wanted_ his sister back instead of being _expected_ to do this. She couldn't even really compartmentalize the whole half-alien thing right now; she'd deal with that part of it later. It was too much to fit her mind around; for now, it hurt to see how low this was laying him. Elise knelt in front of him, leaning down until she caught his gaze. "Hey, Jason. It's okay. Look, I won't tell anyone, okay?"

His blue eyes were full with so much torn emotion that it hurt her to look at him. "That doesn't matter," he told her in a husky, flat voice. Closing his eyes tightly for a moment, Jason then stood and helped her up. The wounded look in his eyes didn't change, but he seemed to have gotten himself together a little better. "Come on, let's figure out how to get back inside."

It turned out that there was an access door, but it was locked. In his present mood, Jason didn't feel like waiting for someone to come up and let them in, so he forced the doorknob and the lock mechanism snapped under his hand. He led Elise back to the three rooms they'd taken, and settled himself in the middle one to await judgment. With a heavy sigh, he dropped down into the armchair at the side of the bed.

"Jason." Elise was staring at him, and he finally met her eyes only to see worry in them. "We'll tell them it was my idea to go exploring, okay?"

The boy only shook his head. It was obvious that he didn't even consider it a possibility. "No, we'll stick with the truth. It was my idea. You tried to keep me from going, but I just _had_ to be the hero." It sickened him to realize how close he'd come to letting her get hurt. Everyone was right; he wasn't ready for this hero business, not yet. Maybe not ever.

Elise just watched him without a word, her expression making it clear that she had something else to say, but Jason was already looking past her at the door. Moments later, it opened, admitting Richard and Lana. The redhead sighed with relief at the sight of him. "Thank God you're okay. Your mom was scared to death."

Jason, meanwhile, had gotten a good look at Richard. "What happened to you? You were only going to do research!" he asked with real surprise, sitting up in an instant, and then a dark expression crossed his face before he answered his own question. "Luthor."

The older man's usual grin was even more rakish with a bloody scratch angling down his cheek. "Someday he's gonna learn to stop messing with this family," Richard said with a vicious gleam in his eye.

Lana tossed him a cross glance before looking the kids over. "Your mom met with one of his agents, too. I'm actually surprised you kids didn't have a visitor; Lois was fairly sure you would have company."

At that mention of Mom, Jason's confidence seemed to die away a little at that, his face falling. "No, they didn't have to look for us. I was stupid enough to go to them."

_Oh, God, not this song and dance again._ Before he could get any further, Elise interjected, "Jason, stop it. It wasn't actually all his fault."

"Elise, stop trying to cover for me. Yes, it was," Jason insisted. He took a deep breath and rose to his feet, looking more like his father than ever, little though he knew it. "I wanted so badly to help find Kala, I made a huge mistake. I hacked into Mom's computer to look for her notes, and wound up following a lead in an email that must have been sent by Luthor. I talked Elise into going with me, and we were almost killed when it turned out to be a trap. Dad had to save us – and now Elise knows the secret." His voice dropped almost to a whisper, but he didn't look down. "I'm sorry."

Lana's jaw actually dropped; Elise hadn't realized people did that in real life. Richard looked stunned. The girl felt compelled to step up and say something. "Look, I'm not going to run around telling people or anything. I'm smarter than that."

The redhead gave her a pitying look. "Sweetheart, you're fifteen."

Elise bristled at that, but before she could say anything Lois burst into the room. The reporter looked like hell, her hair disheveled and pale skin dirt-smudged, knuckles bloodied. And the glare she settled on the kids was even more frightening for that. Jason, however, saw only her injuries. "Mom?!"

In any other circumstances, the entire family would've broken down laughing at the sheer irate ferocity in her. So much fury contained so loosely in such a small package was practically a Lois Lane trademark. But not now. Jason had never seen his mother in such a state, more a tornado of emotion than even he was at the moment. "Don't worry about me, that bitch Mercy Graves got the worst of it. Now what the _hell _happened to you two?"

"Oh, Jason hacked your computer, read your email, and triggered a trap set for you," Richard replied casually enough to make Elise wonder if he was even seeing the way his ex was fuming. He had already gone for the first-aid kit, and held it out to Lois.

She wasn't in the mood for it, though. Jason cringed at the look in her eyes, but he didn't back down, and he didn't try to blame anyone else. Elise, however, dove in front of him. "We didn't come out here to sit in a hotel room and hide," she said. "We wanted to help find Kala. And that's what we were trying to do."

"You should've both stayed right here where you'd be safe. No, we should have shipped the both of you back to Kansas last night, but we would have had the same damn problem," Lois shot back, arms crossed over her chest and giving no ground whatsoever. "Neither one of you have any business being out here. Jason, I can't believe you! I spent almost _twenty years_ trying to keep this a secret, and you went and let your girlfriend find out on the _second day_ the both of you are in Nevada? Un-freaking-believable!"

For Jason to disappoint his mother was a rare thing, and he didn't handle it well. "She's not my girlfriend," he managed to say, visibly wilting.

"Yes, I am, Jason," Elise spoke up, elbowing him with annoyance. Although she could understand why some of this was happening, the need to yell at Jason for situations that had been out of his control was finally getting to be too much for Elise to handle. Much to everyone's surprise, the girl met Lois' eyes and got in between mother and son. "And everything about this family finally makes some sense! I _get it_, okay? For the fiftieth time, I'm not going to tell anyone! All of you act like I'm some kind of featherbrained idiot who's going to blab to the paparazzi as soon as we get back to Metropolis. 'Hey, guess what, Inquirer? I kissed Superboy!' Not hardly!" Her gray eyes stormy, Elise met each of the adults' gazes with her own defiant stare. "I _do_ have a 4.0 GPA, you know. It's not like I'm Giselle or something. I've got better sense than to run around telling everyone that my boyfriend is Superman's son."

Once she was done, she saw Jason staring at her in wide-eyed confusion. For a moment, she wondered what that look was for: the confession or for sticking up for him? Although he didn't keep her hanging for long. "When did we start dating again?"

The whole family just stood in amazement, none having expected this. "Time," Richard called, as if this were a football game. "Son, when an attractive woman says she's your girlfriend, just roll with it, okay? Never argue with that – unless you're already dating someone else."

Elise was about to start up again, but a sudden breeze rumpled her hair and blew several pages of Lois' notes off the table. When it died down, Clark stepped out of the bathroom in civilian clothes. It was mind-blowing to think that this was Superman, that the same guy who made waffles from scratch on Sunday mornings was the hero she'd seen so frequently on TV. Elise noticed the difference in him immediately, now that she knew the secret, and awe silenced her. He stood straighter, and when he spoke his voice was deeper and more certain. "Jason, I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we are very disappointed in you."

Jason flinched, but automatically dropped into a formal sort of speech Elise had never heard from him before. "Father, I am disappointed in myself as well. I have failed you."

"Enough already," Elise snapped, ignoring the utter weirdness of the moment to defend Jason. "If Mrs. Lane-Kent had been out there instead of us, she couldn't have outrun the freaking flash flood! So technically we probably saved her life by leaving the hotel when we weren't supposed to." She didn't see the way Lois narrowed her eyes angrily at that. It was never a good idea to remind Lois that she was the only person in the house without powers.

Jason looked at Elise, looked at his mother, and then looked at his father. This new steadiness was worrisome to the adults; he was taking this like a man, not a boy. "All I can say is that I promised Kala I would always protect her. If that means risking my own life, then so be it. I only regret involving Elise."

Elise made her feelings on his chivalry known, casting aggravated eyes in his direction. "Oh come _on_. It wasn't like you forced me to participate, Jason."

As it was, both of them pointedly ignored her. "You are your mother's son, Jason," Clark sighed, knowing that Lois immediately bristled even as he continued, "fearlessly heroic beyond all possibility of caution or restraint."

Before she could even form the words, Richard cut in, trying to divert Lois' impending rage toward himself. "And with Lois' instinct for finding trouble."

And it almost worked. Almost. "Richard, I know what you're doing. Don't help," Lois muttered through gritted teeth.

Clark shook his head slightly, and dropped some of the intensely formal manner. "Well, we don't have much choice but to deal with the repercussions now. Elise, I heard what you said while I was on the way here. I don't doubt your sincerity, but this is a huge secret that you'll have to keep for the rest of your life. I wouldn't ask that of anyone. It's too much a burden."

"But other people must know, right? You've told some people and nothing cataclysmic happened," Elise asked earnestly, gaze straying over to Richard and Lana.

It was the redhead answered her, glancing around at the others before speaking. "None of us were told – we all found out on our own. I didn't know until ten years ago, and I've known Clark since we were both three years old. The twins even figured it out without being told. Outside this room, there are only three people who ever knew the secret: Clark's adoptive parents, and Lois' mother. His parents had to know, and her mother learned the whole truth because she knew Superman was the twins' father when we were trying to convince everyone that Clark was."

Elise tilted her head in confusion, ready to ask a question, but Lois cut her off by saying, "It's more than that. Luthor knows, and so does Mercy."

"Which means his henchmen know, too," Jason muttered. "He told almost everyone on the yacht last time."

"Not necessarily," Lois corrected. "He didn't know Clark was Superman then – he only knew Superman was your father. We've been hearing rumors about _that_ ever since I got pregnant, though, so it wasn't much of a stretch to tell the guys who kidnapped you and Kala. Anyway, Luthor wouldn't let anyone else know Clark's identity if he could help it. That's too much power for him to share."

Clark mused over that. "You have a point."

"That was the whole reason I cut a deal with him in the first place: to protect your identity. He couldn't tell his people, because if one of them decided to spread the news, his threat would lose its power and I would nail his ass to the wall." Lois cut her husband a pointed look at that.

"Okay, folks, let's regroup and figure out what our next move will be," Richard said. "And while we're doing that, Lois, sit down for a second and let me look at your hands. You really gave that broad a beating, didn't you? Let me get some triple antibiotic on those scratches." His admiring tone took the sting out of the reminder that she'd been injured, and Lois reluctantly let Richard tend to her while they all pooled their information.

Once everyone's stories had been shared, Clark brooded in thoughtful silence for several moments. "I'm afraid that Luthor's no longer working alone. From what Mercy told you, Lois, he has some sort of accomplice at the facility with him. And from what I've seen, he's managed to network with the archenemies of the League. It's the only logical explanation for what happened today."

"So there's, what, an Anti-Justice League now?" Richard asked.

"Apparently," Clark replied dryly. Richard didn't curse in front of Lana very often because she disapproved of that sort of language, but she didn't even scowl at his muttered profanity then.

"We might as well stay here tonight," Lana said. "Luthor may very well know which hotel we're in, but security's pretty tight here. Do you think he would try something in such a public place?"

Lois glanced at her, smirking at the question. "After he got burned the last few times? Probably not."

"I'd be much happier if all of you were safely in Kansas, but I know…" Clark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The hazel eyes then swung to him, her expression dark. "Exactly. Tough," Lois snapped out before he could finish. "If I was in Kansas I wouldn't have been able to find the address Luthor's sending all the supplies to _and_ beat the crap out of Mercy Graves. And lemme tell you, I needed that. Nothing like a thorough, righteous ass-kicking to make my day a little brighter."

Clark made a sound then, perhaps a stifled chuckle, but it sounded scoffing to Lois. She was still keyed up from the fight and the revelation that her precious boy had blown the secret all to hell. It was little wonder, then, that she turned on Clark. "All right, hero, I know you disapprove of my tactics, but screw that! Some of us weren't born bulletproof, and I don't expect you to show up and fight my battles for me! I was taking care of myself long before you turned up in Metropolis, so don't you dare judge me."

That had been the last thing he'd expected when he'd shown amusement. It felt too close to an attack. His disbelief was palpable when he stared at her, brows furrowed. "What the heck are you talking about?"

The next few minutes rapidly descended into raised voices and hasty words and raw nerves, Richard and Lana trying to keep Lois and Clark from yelling at each other. There was simply too much adrenaline and stress in the room for anyone to get past the initial miscommunication.

In the middle of it, Jason decided that he'd heard all he needed to. Grabbing Elise's hand, he practically dragged her into the next room. The adults were too busy to even notice. "God, I can't _stand_ any more of this," he groaned once the door was closed. "They've been doing nothing but sniping at each other for weeks now. I swear, they've never been like this before. I wish they'd just _stop_ already."

"I'm sorry," Elise told him, her mind still spinning at all the revelations. Superman was in the next room getting yelled at by his wife. What a head trip.

Jason sat down heavily on the bed, rubbing his forehead. The strain on his face hurt to even seen, the clear guilt there. "How did this turn into such a huge screw-up? Where did I go wrong?"

Elise thought about for a second, a frown of her own forming, then grabbed one of the pillows and whacked him upside the head with it. "News flash, Superboy: it's not all about _you_. Your parents' problems aren't your fault. Your sister taking off and getting snatched by Luthor isn't your fault. Luthor freaking trying to kill us isn't your fault, either. Yeah, we screwed up today walking into a trap, but it's not the end of the world."

At least that got a startled smile out of him, blue eyes wide before he dropped his head and laughed. When he looked back up, his expression was unclouded and it did Elise's heart good to see it. Misery didn't suit him in the least. "Thanks for sticking up for me, by the way."

"You're welcome. Someone has to." Elise smiled back and sat down next to him, trying to reconcile the Jason she knew and yes, _loved_, with the revelations she'd had today. "So, care to explain how I wound up dating a super-sekret babeh?"

Jason took one look at her face, her raised eyebrows and the twinkle lurking in her eyes and burst out laughing again. She was still confused, didn't understand any of what was going on, but she wasn't scared or grossed-out, it was obvious by everything she was doing right now. And that was enough to convince Jason that, despite the chaos around him, maybe things would be okay.

…

Sniping at each other was pointless and stupid, and even in the heat of her anger Lois realized it. Besides, they weren't getting anything resolved and, in her current mood, it was more than she could tolerate. Not allowing herself to think of anyone else's feelings at that moment, she brushed off Richard and Lana and turned her back on the whole argument. She had to get out of here, had to be alone before she started to buckle. "I've had enough. When everything starts to make some kind of freakin' sense, let me know. I need a shower," she snarled, standing up abruptly and storming off into the next room, slamming the door behind her.

Or trying to, anyway, because Kal-El caught it before it could latch, and followed her in. Behind him, Lana said something exasperatedly about letting the two hard-heads just fight it out. "Lois, listen," he tried to say, but she cut him off before he could even get started.

"Can it. I've been rolling around on a warehouse floor. I need a shower, I need a cigarette, and I need a hundred percent less passive-aggressive bullshit from you. But two out of three ain't bad." With that, she headed for the bathroom, and flung that door shut in his face as well.

Kal-El caught it before it could slam shut, but had the sense not to follow her into an enclosed space. He leaned against the wall just outside, leaving the door ajar so Lois could hear him. "Lois, we need to talk."

"Not right now, we don't." Not even sparing him a glance, Lois shed her clothes and tossed them over the towel rack. The locket, which she had worn constantly since the twins gave it to her, she laid carefully aside on the counter. He was blessedly silent for a moment then, and as she turned the water temperature up and stepped into the needling spray, Lois avoided glancing at herself in the mirror. She didn't want to see the damage she'd taken in this fight. Her carefully-applied makeup was surely shot to hell, and the grime from the warehouse floor wasn't helping. Add in bruises and scrapes, and Lois supposed she looked every moment of her actual age, which she hadn't admitted to in years.

That depressing thought drained the adrenaline from her, and Lois had no reserves left. She had pushed herself too hard, worn her competent façade too thin, to keep from falling into the despair that had awaited her since the afternoon her baby girl ran away from home. Gritting her teeth against a sob, she told herself the wetness on her cheeks was from the shower spray, and never mind that it tasted of salt.

Jor-El was right; she had doomed them all. She should never have done any of this. None of it, from the first rescue to the night that had created the twins. How different would his life have been if she hadn't been in it? How much better would the twins' lives have been if she hadn't been their mother? If she hadn't caught his eye, would he have stayed hidden until the other meta-humans had come out of the woodwork? Maybe then they would have been the children of a Kryptonian father and a goddess, would have had a mother who was above all of this. A mother Kala would still be proud to call her own, still proud of the similarities between them the way Kala had been with her as a child. A mother who would have been able to protect them better than she had, who would never have had to bargain with Luthor, who would have been able to end Lex's grip on them forever.

The thought made Lois bite her lip painfully, but she had to admit it. Honestly, how many lives would never been touched by all of this madness, how much heartache could have been stopped, had she never met Kal-El? He would have been happy with Diana, never had half the fears and anxieties he was stuck with as Lois' husband. The immortal Amazon would never age. Never disappoint him. Especially if he had never known any different. Lois shuddered at the idea, but couldn't deny its power. If in some dark corner of her mind she hadn't thought that Kal-El of Krypton and Diana of Themyscira would make a good match, she would never have been so threatened by the princess.

…

When he had learned that Lois had made a bargain with Luthor, Kal-El had been so furious that he couldn't even speak. It had taken every ounce of his mind and will to grapple with that anger, to keep it from leaping out and accusing Lois of causing this whole fiasco. If he was honest, he was still angry with her. She should never have dealt with that madman, and she should _never_ have kept it a secret from him. They should've been done with secrets ten years ago, when she finally told him the twins were his. Maybe if Lois had been honest with him, he would've seen this coming somehow…

All he wanted to was to let this go, to smooth things over, and go to sleep. All of them had had a rough day; he could still smell the oily smoke from the coal fire, and probably should've been taking a shower too. But Lois had made it very clear that she didn't want him encroaching on her space. Kal-El sighed, wishing for the days when he could share a shower with his wife, and perhaps relieve a little stress as well. When had the spontaneous affection disappeared?

Standing out here in silence wasn't helping. He needed to talk to her, no matter how little either of them wanted to have this conversation. About secrets, about uncertainties, and about where they were going from here. Kal-El took a deep breath and turned toward the bathroom door. "Lois. Please, just listen to me for a few minutes. Lana and Richard are right, you know. If Luthor has allies, we have to be at our best, and we're nowhere near a hundred percent when we're like this."

"Like what?" came the cagey answer from behind the frosted glass shower door, Lois' voice oddly garbled.

"Like two people who don't love each other," he replied, softly. "We're both so ready to take offense. We're ticking each other off with a word or a look. How did we get to this point?"

There was a harsh laugh then, bitter as day-old coffee, before she replied in that distorted voice, "I think that may have started when _you_ blamed _me_ for everything that went wrong, and practically vaporized me out of our living room with a look! Maybe before that, but I'm pretty sure that's when it got the worst."

Kal-El mastered his temper before he could snap at her. As if all of this was _his_ fault! Talking to Richard and Lana had helped him understand why Lois had made that bargain with his worst enemy, but the sheer outrage he felt had only barely begun to fade. Still, he had reached the point in the argument where he wanted it to be over more than he wanted to win.

In spite of that, it galled him to apologize. Kal-El could not escape the belief that his anger had been justified. His means of expressing it, however, might not have been. "I admit I overreacted."

There was silence on the other side of the curtain, the only sound the gurgle of the water and the sound of the run-off hitting the porcelain of the tub surface. He was about to go on when he heard her mutter, "Once again, he comes out with the understatement of the year. As always, Kal-El, you have a way with words. You didn't even wait for an explanation. You just ate me up right there."

Kal-El took a deep breath. Balling his hands into fists somehow helped keep his tone level. "I was furious. I didn't think there could be any explanation for that."

"Oh, so you just assumed that, after he tried to kill the four of us, and Lana and Richard, I just randomly and for no reason at all, decided to make a deal with him that puts all of those lives at stake again? Nice to know just how well you believe in me there! Didn't it occur to you once that _maybe_ he had dirt on us? That he got to us in the first place because he knew things he shouldn't?" The anger in her voice was a live wire, and quite nearly masked the pain beneath.

Time had taken the edge off of his sense of betrayal, and now Kal-El was starting to understand things from her perspective. He no longer doubted that Lois had chosen what seemed to her the lesser of two evils, no longer scoffed at the notion that she had done it out of her belief that she was protecting the entire family. At the heart of it, Lois had only done what she felt she _had_ to do in order to keep them all safe.

Something clicked in his mind then. Lois had kept the deal a secret so as not to burden him. It couldn't have been easy for her, always looking over her shoulder, wondering when Luthor would break his word – or when Kal-El would find out. She had suffered alone, believing she was acting in everyone's best interests, and when the truth came out, it had all blown up in her face. What she'd thought was a mercy turned out to be unimaginable cruelty. And Kal-El, who had stolen her memories so that he would be the only one tormented by the loss of their relationship, knew that feeling all too well.

Knowing that, he couldn't be quite so wrathful with her anymore. "Lois, I'm sorry. I was angry, and I wasn't thinking logically. Wait – No, honestly, I wasn't thinking at all. I should have given you the chance to explain." But the return of mental clarity also meant Kal-El realized their problems ran a lot deeper than just this recent mess.

Lois was silent, neither accepting his apology nor snarling back defiantly. Kal-El didn't need his x-ray vision to picture her frozen, eyes wide, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Softly, knowing she was listening intently, he said, "I was wrong, Lois. But all of this – Kala running away, the call from Luthor – has shown me something very clearly. And it's that the problems between you and I aren't going to be solved by a simple apology."

His wife gave a small laugh then, the splashing of the water indicating that she was washing the conditioner out of her hair, shaking it to free herself of the excess. He knew her well enough to know that she'd use the cold water on her hair quickly before the end, despite how much she hated the water temperature. If he knew that, why couldn't he have seen all of this coming? As he was turning that over in his mind, he felt the heat in the room dip and Lois responded with, "What are you implying, Kal-El? That you and I have bigger things to worry about than trust issues? Tell me about it."

He took a deep breath then, bracing himself. The conversation had made its way around to the confrontation he'd been dreading. And, even though they needed to get this out in the open, he wasn't sure he was ready for it. "I'm not talking about Luthor."

Her voice was just as terse as he had been expecting. "Then what the hell is your problem?" The sound of the water stopped then, and one pale hand reached out to whisk a towel from the rack. If she was staying in there to dry off, it was a bad sign. Lois was not overtly modest and usually stepped out onto the matt to do that, a quirk of hers he'd become attuned to in the last decade. It was not a good sign. And any second Lois would be dressed again and determined to get away. Kal-El had to get to the heart of the issue, quickly.

"I'm talking about your insecurity, for one," he blurted out, and immediately closed his eyes. _That_ hadn't come out right…

The reporter was already climbing out of the shower while he considered what to do next, towel wrapped around her tightly. His wife hadn't even looked at him, jaw set and eyes forward, as she stalked across the tile floor. When the words came out, she had just reached the bathroom door. It was as if time stopped for a moment; she halted mid-step on the threshold as if she'd been turned to stone by those words, a startled expression bright as a deer in the headlights. Slowly, slowly, that beloved face tracked toward him, the amazed shock draining away to be replaced with eyes narrowing to a stiletto-point. "_What_?" she hissed with tightly bound fury. He knew that look, and its potential for destruction; not for nothing was Lois called Mad Dog Lane around the office.

Kal-El couldn't remember any instance in his life when he had been more inclined to back down and give in. He could almost see the sign over her head that read _Do Not Proceed. Enter At Own Risk._ But for love of her, to not lose her, it had to be done. With that thought in mind, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before he open his mouth and dove into what could likely be the greatest battle of his life.


	41. Up the Rabbit Hole

**Here we go, all. This is first of two chapters coming at you this weekend, both chapters being smaller than usual due to the fact that they were originally a 9,500-word chapter that would have been a mess to post. Plus, we're making up for the fact that we skipped last week. We're really hoping the hard work paid off here. *crosses fingers* The second one will be posted tomorrow morning or afternoon.**

And without further ado, may we present...

* * *

This was exactly what he _hadn't_ wanted to happen. With the way things had been going of late, he knew he shouldn't really be surprised. Kal-El fought down the urge to simply drop this the way they had so many times before; he'd started this, he had to finish it. Holding his hands out beseechingly, hoping she could scale back from the ragged edge of her temper. "Wait. Lois, don't read into that. I didn't mean to say it like that."

"Then what _did_ you mean?" Lois ground out between clenched teeth. Her expression said the window of opportunity to keep this a civil discussion was rapidly closing. The timing of all of this was so wrong, but was it possible the timing would never be right. "In my experience, Mr. Kent, it's a rare moment when you can manage to just spit out something you actually haven't thought about. Might as well get it out of your system now."

"That … there's nothing for you to worry about. With me." Kal-El felt his way through the words cautiously, but he had the sinking feeling that it was all going to be for naught. All the sane, rational, reassuring things he'd thought of to tell her seemed to have evaporated, and her thorny tone showed she was already past the point of calm discussion. He tried anyway. "Lois, I love you. When I married you, I said 'for all eternity,' and I truly meant that."

Her expression was one of utter conflict. All of those emotions collided in her at once, the hazel eyes widening in horrified disbelief. That veiled reassurance struck deeply; all these months after her first fears, after his drawing away for so long, and he brought it up now? And to bring it up like this? "Of all the damn times for you to assume things about our relationship and my thoughts on it, this is not it," she snarled, humiliation building as she glared at him. "And the last thing I want to talk about right now is your assumptions about my vanity." Furious at being placed so baldly on the spot like this, Lois pushed past him to snatch up fresh clothes. No way in hell was she going to have this argument with him while she was one angry towel-slipping gesture away from buck naked. In fact, a better idea was to keep doing what they'd been doing and forgo the argument entirely. "You know what? Forget it, you can have the damn room; I'll sleep in the car."

"Lois, no." Kal-El was hot on her heels as she came into the bedroom and Lois fought to keep her expression from faltering as she jerked on her jeans. There wasn't too much more she could take. Furiously, she snatched up her bra while trying to block his words out.

"Stay. Please, stay. I never said you were vain. I just want you to know I love you. I loved you when you were twenty-five, and I'll love you when you're seventy-five. It doesn't matter – I love _you_. We need to work this out. We can't go on like this, with suspicions about each other's colleagues." And by that he meant Eastlake, whose lying smile he hadn't forgotten, as much as Lois' antipathy toward Diana. The pleading note in his voice was genuine, but beneath it was smoldering resentment. Kal-El had always loved her fiery personality, her indomitable passion, but now it worked against him. Wounded, Lois would strike out at him, and he couldn't help being aggravated that he had to be the one to compromise, to mollify her, when he knew full well she was going to lash out at him with everything she had.

She had been pulling her shirt on over her head when he spoke those words and she was profoundly grateful that the look on her face was hidden by the garment. The shame and mortification, building steadily ever since they first discovered Kala missing, had been awful, but this? This was too much, him sounding almost like _Elliot _of all people, wanting to talk away all their problems. It was the final spark in the tinderbox, and Lois whirled on him in a fury. He wanted to have this fight so much he kept pushing it? Well, now they were going to have it and damn the consequences. "You've been talking to someone about it, obviously. Especially since you've never brought it up before now."

"As a matter of fact, yes, I have," he shot back, then abruptly reined in his temper before he named Richard. Letting Lois know he'd gone to her ex for information would just infuriate her more, and there was no telling what the further fallout would be.

"Yeah, I can tell. You're not normally this suicidally blunt on your own," Lois snapped, sitting back down on the bed to jam her feet into her boots. She was fully dressed by then, but he was between her and the door, so she had to respond in hopes of making him move. "And if you wanna talk about my insecurities, don't you think I have a _right_ to be insecure?"

Her abruptness startled him into replying with nothing but the unvarnished truth. "No," he began, and Lois promptly cut him off.

"_God_, for one of the world's brightest minds, you can be so fucking _dense!"_ The words stung like shards of kryptonite, Lois' face twisted into a vicious snarl.

"I'm _dense_?" he retorted. Oh yes, calm discussion was out the window now, and he was replying with heat instead of reason. "_I'm_ dense? Spoken by the only thing on earth, other than _lead,_ that I can't see through! _I'm __**dense**__._ Good grief, Lois, you keep secrets from me and then get mad because I don't know what you're thinking…"

"You keeping a secret from me started all this mess a little over sixteen years ago," she challenged. "Mm-hmm, and then I promised you I could keep a secret too, but you didn't believe me, and you keep saying how much you regret _that._ Not to mention, my ability to keep a secret kept _all_ of us out of trouble for a period of time, didn't it? I know you hate it, I knew you'd hate it when I did it, but making a deal with Luthor so _he'd _keep the secret bought us ten years of peace!"

"Fine! You're right! You're right about the deal – you're the only one who could have made it," Kal-El shot back, pacing the room. He badly wanted to punch things, a state of emotional turmoil he hadn't felt since discovering Luthor's theft of the crystals from the Fortress. Instead of lashing out physically, which would likely end with costly and difficult to explain damage to the furniture, he let the venom he'd buried in his heart splash out onto Lois, on the one subject he'd told himself he wouldn't ask about. "But tell me what has you so upset – _tell me,_ Lois, I can't read minds!"

The way her hazel eyes flew to his told him that that comment had been a direct hit. Lois closed her eyes after that, quiet for a moment. It had to have scored deep for her to be willing to let that weakness show now. He could just barely hear her mutter under her breath, "That never used to be a problem."

…

Perry White eyed the cigar Loueen had had mounted in a glass case as both a joke and congratulations on quitting smoking. The thing was at least twelve years old, probably drier than the Sahara, and he'd cough like a junior high kid if he even thought too hard about smoking it. But moments like this, knowing Lane and Kent – and his nephew and niece-in-law – were smack in the middle of danger, it almost seemed worth it. Perhaps if he just puffed a bit… Olsen and Troupe were busy keeping tabs on the crime wave that had swept across the country today, so they'd never even know.

The doorbell rang, saving him from temptation. Perry went to answer it warily, not expecting any callers at this hour. Who on earth was visiting this late? To his surprise, he recognized the young man outside his door. He left the security chain on as he cracked the door open. "You picked a helluva time to visit, Eastlake."

"I know Luthor's trying to take over the _Daily Planet_," the investor told him. "I can help you."

Perry scoffed. "Yeah, sure, just like half my senior reporters would love to 'help' me right out of the Editor-in-Chief's chair. Like I couldn't figure out who sent you to spy on my assistant. Beat it, kid."

He tried to close the door, but Eastlake pressed his foot against it. "Mr. White, I'm serious. You're in deeper than you know."

"I know that bastard Luthor is buying every share of stock he can get his hands on," Perry shot back. "But you can tell him two can play at that game. I'm not gonna roll over and let him take my paper." With that, he shoved at the door.

Eastlake yelped as it pinched his foot. "I'm not – _ow!_ I'm not here on Luthor's orders. I'm trying to help you!"

"Yeah, what're you gonna do, buy a bunch of stock for me?" Perry snarled.

"No, I was thinking more along the lines of _giving_ it to you. Please let me in?"

The investor sounded sincere, and that was an offer Perry couldn't afford to refuse. He took another long, careful look through the peephole, then opened the door and let the younger man inside. "So talk," he said gruffly.

"I pulled a few strings at Eagle Capital Investments," Eastlake said. "I'd been asked to buy up shares of DP stock, but leave them in my own name so it wouldn't look as if the ECI was trying to take over. Now, I did sign a piece of paper that said I would transfer all DP stock I owned to the company on a specific date. I'm not sure how legally binding that can be, but still, I signed it. I didn't even quite realize what a shady deal it was at the time."

Perry narrowed his eyes. Sure, that last part was a lie, but it was letting the kid save face, so he didn't call Eastlake on it. "What date?"

"This Friday."

Only two days away. "And you've suddenly realized that Luthor's one of the bad guys, and you're gonna thrown in with the plucky underdogs?" Perry asked disbelievingly. "Yeah, sure. You just decided this out of the goodness of your heart. What, you found a talking cricket and it showed you the error of your ways?"

Eastlake sighed, reached into his jacket, and pulled out several sheets of paper. "Here. Take the stock certificates. They're genuine. I'm keeping five shares to hand over to ECI on Friday. The rest is yours."

Perry glanced at the documentation; it looked legit, and he could certainly use those shares. But something was still off. "Fine. Now tell me the _real_ reason you're doing this."

"It's not enough that I'm _giving_ you the stock? Mr. White, you know what those shares are worth." Eastlake tried to glower, but Perry had mastered that art before this young fool could tie his own shoes.

The editor snorted. "All right, I get it. Your conscience is nagging you over what you tried to do to Lane."

Eastlake stiffened at the words. Yep, right on the money. "The only thing I was trying to do to Lane was make sure she didn't get steamrolled by ECI. They want her to take your job, and they're willing to play hardball to get her to do it _their_ way."

"Then they ought to know she'll never play by their rules. I practically raised that girl from the time she was sixteen; she doesn't obey anyone unless she has a damn good reason to do so."

"In that case, they'll ruin her career and bring in someone who'll do what they want. And I don't want to see that happen." Eastlake had been avoiding Perry's eyes, but he met them now. "There aren't many like Lois. She loves this paper – I'm sure you know that. She doesn't deserve to have to watch it destroyed."

Perry waited; it seemed like the young man had something else to say. At last, Eastlake added, "Besides, Pop wouldn't allow this. He wasn't sentimental; he was a good enough businessman to know the _Planet_ is successful as it is. There's no point in completely changing the formula when it's already making money. The only reason ECI wants to do it is because Luthor's holding the purse strings, and he has a grudge. Pop wouldn't let him get away with it."

That was enough for the editor. "All right. I'll take these, and be grateful for them. But if you've got an ulterior motive you're hiding, I promise you, you'll regret it before I'm through."

"They're going to try to meet with you in a week," Eastlake continued, not reacting to the threat. "They're expecting to force you out then. So be ready."

"Son, I've been ready to fight with people like that since the day I was born," Perry said. "Thanks for the warning."

Eastlake held out his hand, and after a second's hesitation, Perry shook with him. "You're welcome, Mr. White. I'll see you next week."

…

Lois' snide remark about his _former_ ability to read her moods was enough to wound him, but not enough to extinguish the anger building in his chest. "No, it didn't," Kal-El replied, trying not to snap at her and failing. "You never used to flirt with the damn _investors_, either!"

Resentful eyes met his. Christ, how had so much of this been misunderstood? Had he never even stopped to consider that just maybe appearances could have been deceiving on that front? How could he not know better? "One investor, Kent, and for a damn good reason! How the hell did you think we found out where L-Tech was based?" she replied hotly. "Where do you think this information came from? I didn't pull it out of my ass, I wheedled it out of Eastlake!"

"You've used your wiles before, but you've never had to _hide_ it from me," he thundered. He hadn't thought so much about this in the past few days, too distracted by trying to find Kala. All the while, the image of Lois and Eastlake laughing together had festered in the back of his mind. "The moment you started shutting your laptop and purging your emails I knew something more than information was going on!"

"Oh _please_! Like I have the time or inclination to sleep around on you, Captain X-Ray_!"_ Lois shouted, throwing up her hands in disgust. But he was _right_ in a way, and Eastlake had fallen for it enough to make a serious pass at her. Lois still felt guilty about leading the man on _that_ far, and even guiltier for the nanosecond in which she'd contemplated even considering the comfort of it for a moment. No way on earth she would have gone through with it; everything in her cried out against it. But the fact that the thought had crossed her mind, however briefly, scalded her soul.

"How should I know what's going on in your head these days?" he snapped right back. "And as for the time, you've always been able to find time to do things you'd rather I didn't find out about." Meeting with Luthor was the first thing that occurred to him, though the many times she'd managed to sneak his Christmas gifts into the house, or make dinner reservations on his birthday, would have been better examples.

The sudden attack got a lightning-quick response from her, one that she immediately regretted. "Well, you know, maybe if you were home more, maybe you could make sure first hand! But no, now that the twins are almost grown, you spend more time in the Big Boys' Clubhouse than you ever have. God knows I'm not enough to keep you home these days." It was an unforgivably low blow, she knew it was, but it didn't make it feel any less true.

"What?!" Kal-El looked at her in pure shock. "What're you talking about, Lois?" He was home as often as he could be – the fate of the world often _literally _rested on his shoulders. And Lois knew that, and had always claimed to understand it. When had that started to change? _Back in summer, most likely. That awful summer._ As soon as that thought came to mind, he felt a knot start in his stomach. If he were honest, maybe this wasn't as much a surprise as he thought. And he had a dreadful feeling like he might know what was behind some of this, after all.

But her answer blindsided him. "I _do_ have eyes, Kent." It was out before she could stop herself, the thoughts that had been lingering in the back of her mind for months. Thoughts that she'd never said aloud for fear that she'd sound like the world's most foolish woman. Fears that had only grown larger as midnight passed into the small hours in the last few months, his work hours growing longer than they had ever been in the past. And now that it was out, there was no way of taking it back. Might as well keep going after breaking cover and showing her hand. "Like I don't see these spandex-clad girls – and I do mean _girls_, most of them are half my age – hovering around you all dewy-eyed! Every damn time you do something with the JLA it's an endless parade of stacked racks, tiny waists, and mile-long legs, and it all comes with freakin' superpowers to boot!"

His jaw actually dropped open, staring at her as though she'd started speaking gibberish. "_What?_" This wasn't the angry bellow of moments before; his voice had hollowed out with disbelief. Maybe his assumption had been entirely incorrect. Richard had told him why she hated Diana, but he'd never even imagined she was jealous of the entire female roster. That was simply insane!

Lois continued as if he hadn't spoken, her left hand worrying the locket around her neck as she paced. "Fishnets over here, midriff bared over there, cleavage showing halfway to the navel, most of 'em dress like they're in a pinup calendar instead of the goddamn Justice League. Just how the hell am I supposed to stand up to that?" Lois stopped then, eyes now not so furious as much as hurt. The lost look in them spoke of even more than she was telling him. It was clear that she'd been holding this back for a very long time. "I'm not twenty-five anymore, Clark, as if it wasn't blatantly obvious." She knew she had to look as sick as she felt, turning away from him then to hide the swarm of emotions tearing at her. "And they all just can't get enough of you. Diana's the worst of the bunch – Diana the _princess_, the immortal. Diana, who can't keep her eyes off of you, and who can blame her?"

Lois' voice was choked with tears by then, but she ran on, unable to stop herself. "It's perfect; too perfect, if you think about it. I mean, she'll never age and you haven't even gotten the first gray hair. She's got powers of her own, you'd never have to worry about breaking her. Who knows, she might even be able to give you another … another child … she…" It was painful to see her struggle for her hard-won control now. He watched her bite back a hitching sob, before she tried to laugh, her lips twitching in an ironic smile. "Who knows? Maybe if you'd waited a little longer, you would have gotten a much better deal. I bet your father would've loved that. A goddess with powers that would compliment yours, and who's dedicated to the same mission. A worthy partner at last…"

The reporter dropped her head then, face obscured by her damp hair, raising a hand to rub her forehead. Her voice was hushed when she continued on, "It would have all been for the best, you know? Think how much better everyone's lives would have been if I hadn't been in the way. You would've met her and the twins would be hers, with all the powers, and there's no way anyone could've ever taken them away or hurt them…"

Kal-El had been stunned throughout her monologue. Everything Richard had told him was true, but it went deeper than either man could have guessed. He crossed the room to her and grabbed her shoulders almost roughly, making Lois look up at him. "Lois, it doesn't matter," he said, his voice more stern than she'd ever heard it. Even when he'd yelled at her that day, after finding out about the deal with Luthor, he hadn't been this sure. "I only want you – ever since I met you, I only wanted you. Why are you suddenly so willing to join up with all the fanboys who want to throw me at Diana? When have I _ever_ given you a reason to doubt?"

…

"So, about this 'dating again'… When exactly did we get back together?" Jason gave Elise a hopeful smile. They had loosened up enough in the last twenty minutes that they were laying side-by-side on the bed, a little distance apart, just enjoying closeness.

She narrowed her eyes at him before rolling them with a laugh. That was Jason Kent and his one-track mind. His parents – the Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist and the superhero – were yelling at each other, his sister was still missing, she had just learned the Huge Family Secret, and what did he fixate on? Dating. _Boys_. Then again, she could understand not wanting to dwell on the bad stuff for once. "Okay, Jason, let's recount events. _I stowed away on a plane with you_. I did that for three reasons: one, Kala's my friend, two, Sebast couldn't, and three, I still care about you. I never _stopped_ caring about you. How did you miss that? _Other_ than the fact that you're a boy."

He shrugged, looking sheepish and confused, ignoring the bait. "But, see, that's what I don't get. Kal said the same thing to me, at the birthday party, but it doesn't make any sense. You told me you broke up with me because I was too perfect, so you turn around and start dating this Kiwi? Which I had to find out about from the rumor mill?"

Elise's grey eyes wandered heavenward. Jason had never been known for being terribly subtle – see the _marriage proposal_ at fifteen – but she had thought he would puzzle his way around this one. Jason was in the chess club, so surely he should've caught on to her strategy by now? "Okay, truth-telling time. I never dated anyone in New Zealand."

"_What_?" Jason looked honestly thunderstruck. "Wait, wait just a minute, here. Elise, you talked about him. You described him in completely and disgusting detail to all of our friends. Not only that, you couldn't stop talking about how you got love letters from him." Just saying it, remembering, made him feel faintly green.

She had known she had gone a little overboard from the moment she had first opened her mouth about her 'summer romance', hoping to make it clear she was over Jason, but it seemed like she had been a little too detailed. It was enough to make her want to sink through the bed. God, now she had to explain what she had been up to. Did it have to get more humiliating? "I … told the school gossips so it would get around," Elise corrected, blushing. "The letters really come from this chick I met. I spent just about every day at her house watching the complete DVD collection of _Doctor Who_ – and the guy I described to everyone is the actor who plays the Doctor for several seasons, David Tennant. No one ever got to see the letters 'David' wrote me, remember? So _yeah_, I totally lied." She was wincing when she finished, feeling like the world's biggest idiot.

"But _why_?"

With a sigh, Elise rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling to get away from the look of utter disbelief in his eyes. "So I wouldn't look like an idiot for not being over you, _Jason_."

After a long moment, the girl made herself glance over at him. Jason gazed at her with a still-bewildered expression that made her want to hide under a pillow. "I will never understand girls," Jason proclaimed, his brow furrowed. "First you break up with me because you like me too much, then you make up a New Zealand dream guy so that no one else will know you still like me. How does that make sense? _How_?"

This time she actually did put the pillow on her side over her face. Leave it to Jason to react as expected. Her voice was muffled when she responded, "All right, _fine_, so I have some issues. I mean, _look_ at us. Jason, nobody meets their soul mate at our age. Teenagers are supposed to date and get their hearts broken and act like idiots."

And, predictably, Jason leaned over and snatched the pillow away from her when he responded. "If that's normal, I'm glad we're weird."

"I'm not weird, you are," Elise retorted, looking up at him with annoyance. When he snorted in amusement, she couldn't help the smile that rose to her lips, even as her cheeks burned. "Okay, _fine_, but you're still weird_er_."

"Hey, I'm half alien. What's your excuse?" When her brows went up, Jason instantly started to regret the flippant remark. It was too soon for that. It was the first time he'd been in this situation; the timing was probably totally off…

There was an awkward silence for a moment, both planning their responses carefully. Elise was the first to break it, not without hesitation. "Yeah, about that. So … tell me. What's it like? Being, you know, Superman's son."

Jason stared at her, wondering just what she meant. He hadn't really considered the question in years. "You know my dad, Elise. He's like any other dad. He tells me not to spend my allowance all in one place, he's proud of me when I win a chess match, and we play catch on the weekends." He paused, letting it sink in. In many ways, this was a fairly normal family, with all the normal trials and triumphs.

But then, she had a point. There was that little something extra that most people probably couldn't imagine. But it was his life and nothing unusual to him these days. In his most blasé tone, Jason added, "Of course, sometimes when we're in Smallville, we play catch with the tractor."

"Holy shit." Elise's mind froze there for a moment, the image startling her more than she had expected. "That's … wow. I mean, I knew you were strong by the way you were carrying me back there, but I didn't realize… Wow." She knew it wasn't the most intelligent reaction to have, but really, who could blame her?

Jason, however, just shrugged as if this were just a common-place event that all families did. His only acknowledgement to the oddness was a small smile. "Speed would've been more useful, but I didn't get as much of that. It's more Kala's thing…" The smile started to disappear again once he said his twin's name. Guilt flared in his blue eyes.

Elise knew she had to keep his mind off Kala for the moment. If they were going to get any rest tonight and be ready to search tomorrow, she had to stop him from obsessing. "So what powers do you have? And _God,_ that's the weirdest question I've ever asked anyone."

That seemed to work, and Jason again smiled slightly at her question. It was strange for him to talk freely about this with someone who wasn't a relative. Chuckling, he told her, "Strength, a little speed, some hearing, the heat vision and the x-ray vision."

Her eyes widened at the last of those, holding her hands palm-out … at chest height. There was a twist she hadn't seen coming. "Whoa, x-ray vision?" When Jason raised an eyebrow, she felt like an idiot and dropped them. _This is __**Jason**__, remember? _"Yeah, good point. If you had really wanted to look, you could see through my hands, too. Everything but lead, right?"

"I have trouble with some of the denser metals," Jason admitted. "But most ordinary things I can see through when I want to. I have to concentrate, though, and I don't use it to peep at girls. Mom would whap me so hard upside the head; I wouldn't be able to see for a week if I did something like that. You just don't do that."

The mental image was just too hilarious for words. "And knowing your mom, she would, too," Elise replied with a grin. Little wonder she'd always gotten along with Mrs. Lane-Kent.

Jason paused to look her in the eyes, searching for something. "Are you sure you're cool with this?" Jason finally asked. He hadn't expected her to be this accepting. "I mean, it's a little…"

"Weird? Shocking? Unexpected? Yeah. But you know what? Everything that _was_ weird before now suddenly makes perfect sense. All the little in-jokes, the secrets, the way you're always so careful with everything, the way your dad kinda just smiles when anyone makes a joke at his expense. I never thought the explanation would be, 'oh yeah, Dad is Superman', but it all _works_." Elise tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and smiled lazily. "How did I wind up dating Superboy, hmm?"

Jason returned the grin. Both of them were starting to get a little tired, and it seemed like the adults weren't going to come split them up anytime soon. Perhaps a bedtime story was in order. "It all started with a reporter, a falling helicopter, and a friend with a big secret." And the way Elise grinned warmed his heart as he began. 


	42. Closer to the Edge

**Here now is the second one of the weekend. And yes, the next will be in two weeks. And yes, it will include what you think it will.**

* * *

He was trying to reassure her – wasn't that a joke. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe the fact that I never know when I'll get to see my husband for longer than ten minutes at a time lately? Besides, what makes you think it's just about us?" Lois responded miserably. Unhappily, she pulled away from him with a broody expression. "Don't you get it? _I'm_ the reason the twins are vulnerable, being half-human. They got smaller doses of all the powers. I wouldn't be surprised if your Dad knew that and that's why he was against this from the first. And Lex knows that. It's _my_ weakness that let Kala get kidnapped…"

"And you call _me_ dense," he said harshly. Lois didn't have the right to make herself a martyr, not when the truth was anything but. He set about correcting her with the weight of his guilt putting an edge on the words. "If it's anyone's fault, what happened to Kala, it's _mine_. Lois, any child is vulnerable to being kidnapped by a madman like Luthor, superpowers or not. It was _your_ legacy that kept them both alive on an island made of kryptonite. And it's _your_ courage and determination Kala needs right now – powers don't work against Luthor, he's too good at figuring out how to work around them. My powers didn't beat him last time – I was helpless, and _you_ saved _me_ with pure will."

Her breath hitched, but he didn't let that stop him. As angry as they still were with each other, the facts in this case were plain, and she needed to understand them. "I don't care what my father wants for me, I know what _I_ want, and it's definitely not Diana. We're good colleagues, but that's it."

She smirked at that, her arms crossed in front of her as she watched his face. "Oh yeah? Really? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you're not attracted to her in the least, hero?"

He scoffed. "I'll admit I do have a thing for powerful, independent, dark-haired women. But _you_ are the reason I like that type! Everything I could possibly find attractive about her is something I fell in love with in you. Why would I be interested in someone who's _like_ you when I already have _you_?"

"Even if she could give you another child?" He hadn't seen that coming at all, the question widening his eyes in surprise. That was when he knew just how badly Lois was hurting. Her pleading, tear-filled gaze haunted him with the knowledge that she would never want to show this kind of weakness. To love a man was one thing, but to crave having his children was entirely too domestic for many people's perception of Lois Lane.

And it was another score that had to be set straight. "Lois, _I'm_ the reason we can't have more children, not you, and maybe … maybe it's more karma than biology. Maybe I'm not meant to get a second chance, maybe I'm supposed to always remember what one cowardly decision cost me. _It does not matter._ You gave me Jason and Kala, and the two of them are all the miracles I need."

She looked away then, her voice almost a whisper, fear and regret bound tightly to each syllable. "You don't even know if we'll get Kala back in one piece."

"Yes, we will," he replied, his voice low. "She's _your_ daughter. It'll take more than Luthor to stop her, and we're not going to quit until we find her. But we're going to have to be in this together – we can't keep hiding things anymore. We have to be a team."

That made her wounded gaze flare into anger again. "Yeah, you're right – which means _you_ have to actually _talk_ to me once in a while."

"We talk…" he began, but she didn't let him finish.

"Not about the important stuff," Lois shot back. "You've always needed someone to confide in, a shoulder to lean on when a rescue doesn't go right. You blame yourself if someone doesn't knock a little sense into you every so often. But it's been months since you came to _me_ with anything that bugs you. I know the world didn't turn perfect overnight, so you had to have been talking to someone else."

"Lois, I didn't want to burden you," Kal-El told her.

"Oh, but it's fine to burden one of your caped colleagues?" The acid in Lois' voice belied the glimmer in her eyes. Kal-El knew then that she thought he'd been talking to Diana, and that idea hurt her more than any rumor of romance. Flirting with teammates would only make Lois angry, but confiding his deepest fears to someone else was much more intimate. Lois had always been particularly proud of being the only one to bear that honor.

"No," he told her. "We all support each other, but that's not who I've been going to when I'm sick of the world and think my mission is doomed. I've been talking to Lana – and she was right. She told me I needed to talk to you instead, but I didn't want to lean on you when you had so much to deal with."

Lois' eyes widened at that and he couldn't even tell by her incredulous reply if the admission made things better or worse for her. "Wait, you've been talking to Red about this?"

Kal-El shrugged, showing his empty palms. "Who else knows me that well? Who else do I trust that much? And who else is completely unshakeable? Lois, the only reason I didn't lean on you is that … well, you haven't been the same since Ella passed." He squared his shoulders, anticipating a very poor reaction to those words.

He watched Lois' face whiten at his words, his wife drawing back a little further from him. No one in the family had been willing to call her on the way her mother's death had affected her and the mention of it seemed to hit her between the eyes. Even now, she was trying to pull away from the topic. Even now, she forced her grief to be private, locked in a corner to deal with at some later date. "That's not fair, Kal-El. You know that's not fair."

"No, it isn't," he told her. "It's not fair that you had to lose her so early and so unexpectedly. It's not fair that you lost the person _you_ leaned on when things got rough with me and the twins. Losing someone you love is never fair. But it's also not fair to lock yourself around your grief until you can barely breathe for the effort of it keeping it way down inside."

"That's not…" she began, but Kal-El cut her off again.

"It is. Lois, you've been trying so hard to hide it, but everyone who knows you can see how it's slicing you up from the inside."

She flinched this time, the expression on her face one he had never seen before. Hurt, anger, horror; the look of someone watching a hurricane tear their house into the sea with no chance of ever retrieving it. And then knowing full-well it would come for them.

…

"We're going to have company tomorrow," Luthor said. Zod leaned back in his chair and eyed his old enemy. He had answered Luthor's summons politely enough, but he would volunteer nothing. So he waited, and eventually Luthor added, "I expect Kal-El will be here to collect his daughter."

Zod was no fool. From the moment Kala Kal-El had arrived here, it was simply a matter of time before her father came searching for her. He had hoped to have longer before the inevitable confrontation – these scant days were not enough for his plans to come to fruition – but there was no sense in being frustrated. Circumstances were what they were, and it was wiser to adapt than to rage at changes beyond his control.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, but said nothing. Zod could guess what Luthor wanted of him, but he intended to make the man spell it out precisely. An aggravated expression flickered across Luthor's features, but his voice held no trace of it. "I intend to meet him in the storage facility topside. He may have a few friends with him; I have plans in place to keep them busy, but I don't want to be surprised if some of them are there."

Zod nodded. "Sensible." He found himself enjoyed Luthor's discomfiture; the human clearly expected him to be wild-eyed and raving, demanding to be included in the attack on Kal-El. His seeming indifference cast all of Luthor's plans asunder.

The man's eyes were cold steel. "You'll be there, of course."

"I shall," Zod replied, and saw relief in the slight relaxation of Luthor's shoulders. Suppressing a smile, he said quietly, "I will not kill him."

Luthor was plainly taken aback. "Whatever happened to 'you will bow down before me'? He _is_ the son of your jailer."

_As you are my jailer now,_ Zod thought, _and I shall see you humbled, before the end._ But he kept that thought from showing as he answered, "While it is true that I would like to slay Kal-El, you have earned that right. I have not."

"So you're being _gracious_?" Luthor laughed nastily. "Come on. The noble act might fool the kid, but I know what you are. I've seen what you're capable of – with my own eyes, not in some faded newspaper article. What's your real reason, General? And if you lie to me again, we'll find out how much kryptonite radiation it takes to get the truth."

Zod hesitated, waiting just long enough before caving in with obvious reluctance. "We both know you would kill me if I were to take his life. You will not allow anyone other than yourself to harm him or his wife. So I shall not be tempted. Take his life yourself, Luthor. It is enough that I shall see him slain."

He looked away, defeated, and Luthor chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then. Be ready."

Nodding slightly, Zod left the office without meeting Luthor's eyes again. It was the only way he could escape without a telltale smirk giving away his deception. _Luthor, you have always been a self-aggrandizing egomaniac. I will let you think I fear you, let you think I resent the fact that you will kill the son of Jor-El. All that matters is that I will be able to look into the eyes of Kala Kal-El, tell her I did not murder her father, and the words will be true._

…

It was a devastating revelation. Lois' weakness had been on display all this time, and all of her careful efforts to conceal her vulnerability had fooled no one. Her breath was coming in sobs, but Lois fought it. Wouldn't look away. Facing down the storm because she had nowhere else to run. "Leave it alone, Kal-El! We have more important things to worry about right now." Even the grit in her voice was weakened when she snapped at him.

All of a sudden, everything made sense. Ella Lane had been Lois' shield against so many things, not just her father's disapproval. With her mother gone, Lois had to suddenly face the fact that she too was mortal – she was not going to be young and fiery forever. Age and death, both of which she had defied her entire adult life, were going to happen to _her_. Kal-El had read a lot about coping with a parent's death when Jonathan Kent had died so suddenly, but he'd forgotten those truths in the intervening years. And honestly, even though Lois _had_ died once and had come terribly close to doing so again far too many times, in her heart of hearts she had never imagined she could actually die.

Lois could be incredibly prickly and difficult to live with until you realized what made her tick, and saw the vulnerable, sentimental romantic beneath her fierce façade. Then, as Kal-El did, you accepted the thorns as part of the rose. Understanding moved him, and he spoke without thinking, his voice gentle. "Lois, we're all going to die someday."

"Stop it! Just stop it! We don't even know if you'll age, let alone die. You've barely aged a day in the last five years!" Her voice shaking, she shouted at him. The numerous masks Lois had been trying to hide behind were shattering painfully one by one. "I can't deal with this right now, don't you get it? We don't have time for… Goddammit!" She was starting to cry now, the turmoil refusing to be held back this time. It was long past time. "Isn't it enough that Momma got taken from me? Isn't it? Then I start to lose you once and for all to the rest of the world? If that's not enough, I totally fuck up and lose it with Kala for doing something totally stupid and just like a teenager. At which point, Lex snatches her up. She could … could…" Kal-El saw those words come, only to fall away.

Even in the intensity of her seething emotions, Lois couldn't say it anymore than he would allow himself to think it. "Even if we get her back, things are shot to hell with her to the point where I'll lose her, anyway," she finished instead. Her fingers kneaded the twins' locket around her neck ceaselessly, her thumb rubbing an endless circle over the stone facing.

She wasn't quite right about the first part of that. His dark hair was threaded with gray at the temples, and his features were a little more deeply etched than they had been ten years ago, but the signs _were_ there. Kal-El just wore his age very lightly. He couldn't entertain speculation on his potential lifespan at the moment. Not when he'd finally peeled away almost all of Lois' layers of defensiveness.

Closing the distance between them, Kal-El put some force behind his words. "You won't lose Kala. Not over a few minutes of bad temper. Yes, you both hurt each other, but you love her and she loves you. It wasn't that long ago that she was following at your heels every moment, insisting on having 'coffee' every morning like Mom even if hers had to be half milk."

The reminder had the desired effect. Her brow furrowed deeply, her hand going to her lips to hold back a whimper. It was amazing how the past came back to Lois then. Kala sitting on the bed behind her as her mother had gotten ready for a night out at a Planet fundraiser, Lois dressed to the nines. Those inquisitive eyes following every move of a lip brush, every sweep of shadow, as if committing it to memory for later use. There would be a little talk, but mostly her chatterbox daughter had just sat there and observed. God, that seemed so long ago now, the child she had loved so much buried into this surly person Lois didn't feel as though she knew anymore.

And the first sign that she was still in there had come at the most shameful moment of her life. Kala had provoked her, it was true, but there might have been better way to handle it. On top of all the sass the child had thrown at her in the weeks before New Years, the stress of that night, it had been too much. In the heat of the argument, the fear that something had happened, that maybe Luthor had found her, it all wrapped itself around her nerves until Kala pushed her too far. She had simply lost it and reacted with no regard for the fact that she was striking her own child for the first time ever. Even now, remembering it turned her stomach bitter. "I slapped her, Kal-El. I slapped the hell out of my own child because I was scared to death for her. And, yeah, I was mad. But that doesn't excuse it. It doesn't excuse any of this. Christ, I just don't even know how to react to her anymore. I love her to death, but God…"

Kal-El sighed. As always, Lois was her own worst critic. It didn't help that a natural part of grieving for a parent was realizing you were occupying their place in life now, which meant your children were now in the place you'd just vacated. Especially in Lois' case, that meant trying to spare them from the same setbacks you'd suffered. For himself, Jor-El, and Jason, the progression was relatively easy. _The son becomes the father, and the father becomes the son._ But for Ella and Lois and Kala, the road was much rockier, and Kal-El wasn't sure if that was just part of the process for mothers and daughters, or if it had more to do with the strong personalities of all three women.

Still, Lois was partly right. No excuse could make up for having slapped Kala across the face. Both twins had gotten a smack or two on the bottom, when they were being particularly obstinate, but they'd never been struck in anger. Kal-El could still see the expression of pained horror on Kala's face, the way her defiance had crumpled after that slap. He'd seen it through half a mile of Metropolis' buildings, looking ahead with x-ray vision as he'd raced toward the sound of furious voices.

And he'd seen the moment when shock and hurt had given way to outrage. That was when he'd put on the extra speed, bursting the patio doors open to catch Kala before she retaliated. "You wouldn't have been so angry, or so frightened, if you didn't love her," he said, his voice rough. "And I'm sure she knows that. Kids can forgive a lot more than we give them credit for. But it can't go on like this. I never want to see the two of you so mad at each other again; kryptonite's less painful than seeing the two women I love most squaring up to fight."

Lois cut him a wounded glance. That last sounded too much like an ultimatum, and she had to respond. "It'd be nice if you'd back me up once in a while, you know. That whole fight would never have happened if she hadn't gone behind my back to get her way about going out on New Year's. She asked _you_ instead of me, knowing full well that Daddy would give his little princess exactly what she wanted."

Kal-El stiffened at that not-so-veiled accusation. Now _he _was the one on the defensive. "I admit I'm not always as strict with Kala as I should be – but Lois, there are military schools that would cut her more slack than you do!"

The very last thing he should have done in a conversation about parenting with Lois Lane was bring up the military. Her eyes blazed, and the self-recrimination of a moment before disappeared before her anger. "What the hell are you trying to say? That I should let her run wild like you do? Let her wear whatever she wants, go wherever she wants, come home however late she wants, and generally act like a heathen? Kal-El, she's an adrenaline junkie _with superpowers_ – if someone doesn't keep her in line, she'll lose control completely someday! And wouldn't Luthor and his cronies just love it if she _did_ go off the deep end!"

"Keeping her in line is one thing," Kal-El replied hotly. "Keeping her on a leash so short she strangles every time she takes a step is something else entirely. Don't you see what you're doing? _Everything_ Kala does is wrong, according to you."

"That's over-exaggerated _bullshit_ and you know it!" Lois snapped. "I expect it from _her_, drama queen that she can be, but _you_ know better."

Kal-El retorted, "That's how _she_ sees it. She's not _right_, but that's how she _feels_. She's a teenager, Lois, they're all melodramatic! The point is, in her eyes, she can't help but disappoint you. As far as she can tell, you're acting just like…" Lois went pale as milk, her staring eyes huge, and Kal-El realized the parallel he'd drawn. He bit his lip against the worst possible accusation: telling Lois that she was treating Kala exactly the way her own father had treated her.

Half an hour ago, when this all began, Kal-El had been angry enough that he probably would've said it anyway, and damn the consequences. He was glad, now, that he'd spent most of his rage on far less important things. To compare Lois to her father was the cruelest thing he could possibly say to her. Her career, her entire _life_, had been a statement to General Lane: _I am so much better than you ever gave me credit for_. Every story she scooped, every risk she took, Lois was lashing out at the idea that she'd never be good enough. And even when she'd succeeded beyond anyone's wildest dreams, she _still_ couldn't let herself believe she'd won. She still had something to prove to a man who'd been dead almost twenty years.

And Kal-El had just come within a breath of telling her she'd become her own personal bogeyman. He saw the sheen in her eyes as she drew the conclusion for herself, and braced himself against the whirlwind of her fury.

A whirlwind that never came. This final blow battered her façade like the ruthless down-sweep of a hammer, the damage just as jagged. Instead of the expected reaction, disgusted anger, Lois' back stiffened while her eyes closed as if she had been dealt a vicious physical blow. Her voice trembled brokenly on the words she choked out, "You bastard. That's not fair! I just don't want her to go through the things I did; I'm trying to keep her from being a wildly-curious idiot that's just going to get her heart broken like I did!" She paused for a moment then before giving a cynical chuckle. "Looks like I did as good a job at that as keeping the rest of the family safe, huh?"

"You've always put the family ahead of everything else," Kal-El told her. "Everyone who's ever met you knows you'd give your life to protect me or the twins. Even making the deal with Luthor, you were sacrificing yourself for us."

Lois opened her eyes to gaze just off to his left, anywhere but at him. Again, that tough little laugh, her lips tight. "And now that I can't sink any lower, I'm noble. Just stop. Please don't patronize me at a time like this."

"I'm not," Kal-El replied. "Lois…"

"Oh, please. You made your point. Let's just call this on face-value." She still couldn't bear to look at him, delivering her scathing remarks to the floor. "In the last few months, I've devolved into a miserable, jealous shrew, so nasty-tempered I drove my own husband to confide in one of our best friends rather than disturb me. I'm an absolute shoo-in for Mother of the Year for slapping my own daughter for her own good! No wonder she ran away from home; it's exactly what I would have done back then. And we both know it's my fault Luthor has her right now. Let just call it what it is. Maybe the Giant Floating Head had a point back then. Maybe he saw all of this coming. Maybe he really was trying to save you from it."

For the first time in too long a while, protectiveness overrode the bewildered hurt and fury in Kal-El's heart. Even when he'd been the angriest, he had thought better of Lois than she did now. Most of his outrage had stemmed from disbelief that Lois could betray him; he relied so much on her strength and courage. "That's my wife you're talking about," he said warningly.

Another dry chuckle and she turned her back on him, staring at the closed door to their room. Under any other circumstances when she'd said these kinds of things, it had always been in the context of teasing him about putting up with her when he could have the whole world instead. But not this time. Lois' voice was low and deadly calm. "That's something you could remedy easily enough and we both know it. You said as much yourself, on New Year's Eve. The twins are almost grown, the Justice League is almost in full-swing, and you know that your wife is capable of some pretty huge deceits. I'm not sure if we can ever recover from that. Not too many people would disagree that you have pretty good grounds for it."

So she was willing to give up on him, on them. Worse, she thought he was ready to. Lois still didn't realize what he'd _actually _said that night. Kal-El stalked toward her, his eyes dark with turbulent emotion. "I lied to you, Lois."

Her heart sank as she looked up to him, saw that foreboding expression. _Oh God. Here it comes_. The fallout she had always had nightmares of, the first shovelful of dirt atop the coffin of the relationship. She'd seen it coming for so long, but to be finally there, in that moment… Lois' heart stuttered to a halt, swept away by hopeless terror. He said he had lied to her… And the only thing he could be talking about now was his vow to love her until the end of time.

Hands that could rip solid steel like tissue paper cupped her face, and though he didn't hurt her, Lois was more aware than ever of the great strength in that simple touch. All of the force was implied, not expressed, and she sensed something fierce in place of his usual tenderness. "I told you if you wanted a divorce, I'd give you one," Kal-El growled, those stormy eyes on inches from hers. "I lied. I will _never_ give you up, Lois." He kissed her then, roughly, and Lois gasped. His residual anger smoldered in that kiss, along with all of the love he had for her – the love that had been bruised but not broken, not even diminished, by the trials and revelations of this terrible week.

This could heal the breach between them. This was the emotional connection they had been missing, rendered tangible. This was what both of them wanted, what they needed, what they had suffered without. And this was the proof, final and absolute, that he wanted _Lois_ and no other woman. Now it was time to convince her of that fact, as well.


	43. Carnival of Rust

**This is it. The beginning of what you've all been waiting for for the last forty chapters. This is the section that we've been planning the events of in minute details since before the end of _Little Secrets_. This is now an E Ticket ride. Please remain seated for the rest of the ride. Expect the unexpected. Hold on tight, turn your belief on high, because you ain't seen _nothing_ yet. **

**Also, what you have here is the edited version of a certain scene below. As always, if it's too intense, it goes into a separate file to save unpleasantness for those that aren't up for it. To view the scene in full, head over to my LJ (the link is in my profile). I may add it in its own file here later as an edited (not deleted) scene, but for the moment, I'm going to do it this way.**

**And on that note, may I welcome you to...**

* * *

_**To breath the name**_  
_**Of your savior**_  
_**In your hour of need.**_  
_**And taste the blame,**_  
_**If the flavor,**_  
_**Should remind you of greed.**_  
_**Of implication, insinuation and it will**_  
_**'Til you cannot lie still.**_  
_**And all this turmoil,**_  
_**Before Red Cape and Foil**_  
_**Come closing in for a kill**_

_**Come feed the rain,**_  
_**'Cause I'm thirsty for your love,**_  
_**Dancing underneath the skies of lust.**_  
_**Yea, feed the rain.**_  
_**'Cause without your love, my life**_  
_**Ain't nothing but this carnival of rust...**_

* * *

No matter how you looked at it, _this_ was awkward.

Even with the television on, Richard and Lana couldn't help overhearing the yelling coming from the next room. The wall against their bed abutted one wall of Lois and Clark's room. Likely forgetting that they were able to overhear, Lois wasn't even trying to be quiet, and Clark's voice had always carried well. "I guess it's a good thing they're at the end of the hall," Richard said, flinching at the rawness of Lois' voice.

The two of them shared an apprehensive look, not sure exactly what they could do at this point. "I hope the kids aren't hearing this," Lana murmured, but another shout drew her attention before she could go check on Jason and Elise.

"They'll be fine." Richard wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Both of them were worried; had Lois and Clark pushed things past the point of no return?

In light of this, Lana started to fret. "We should've done something sooner. To heck with the timing, I should've dragged them both aside before Christmas and talked some sense into them."

"It might've helped, but I think they would've wound up doing this anyway. Lois has to yell; it's just who she is. And he's got a right to yell back."

Lana nodded, leaning into him. There was nothing else the two of them could do except let Lois and Clark get this over and done with, and hope they'd been right about the strength of the Lane-Kent marriage.

After a long while, the loud argument finally started to wind down. But then Richard and Lana heard Clark's voice again in a low, threatening rumble. That got both of their attention quickly, and both glanced at each other, then the wall.

_THUD._ Of all the things that they expected to hear next door, that hadn't been one. The pair flinched from that ominous sound. "Maybe she threw something at him?" Richard offered.

Lana bit her lip, scowling, as another thud rattled the framed print above their bed. "He wouldn't throw anything at her, so it must have been," she said slowly, trying not to think of how easily Clark could have thrown _Lois_ that hard. He'd never do such a thing … but that was _his_ voice they'd heard, muffled but still clearly angry.

Neither of them had heard Lois made a sound since then, and Richard was just beginning to think about intervening, when the thumps began to take on a familiar rhythm. A silly grin began to curve Richard's mouth before he burst out laughing. "Well, that sounds like an apology to me. Honey, you can stop worrying. I think they made up."

That was enough to widen sea-green eyes. _Tell me they're __**not**__… Oh, geez._ Lana dropped her head into her hands, sighing. "Well, at least they're not yelling anymore."

Richard chuckled knowingly. "Don't expect it to stay quiet for long," he warned.

…

When Lois tried to pull back, Kal-El let her go – and then pinned her roughly against the wall. His weight against her, his mouth on her lips, his hands on her body, all were rapidly dissolving the last of her resistance. Not that her emotions weren't still roiling between anger and pain; Lois bit his lower lip and raked her nails down his arms even as she wrapped one leg around him. She was more likely to hurt herself than him, but Lois didn't care. He could feel such things; Kal-El wasn't made of stone, he could feel the pressure, but it couldn't harm him. If anything, at the moment it spurred him on.

And that, she realized, was exactly what she wanted. Both of them were still shaken by the argument, by all the turbulent emotions they'd been steadily denying for months and had just loosed with flash-flood force upon each other. Beneath the hurt and the betrayal, though, there had always been love and desire. If not, one or the other would have walked away long before this.

Kal-El found his fear of losing her melted away in a rush of possessiveness. She was _his_ and only his, forevermore, and that was exactly as it should be. To let the tension and anxiety drain away like this was the best cure for both of them. Besides, after ten years of marriage he'd learned that the best part of any argument was making up afterward, when the adrenaline from the quarrel was still rushing through their blood.

He caught her thighs and lifted her, ignoring the thud as he pinned her against the wall again at a more convenient height. Lois arched her hips, her hands locked at the back of his neck. She'd worn jeans to protect her legs from Nevada's harsh, dry winds and sand, but the tough denim might as well have been the most diaphanous chiffon when Kal-El grabbed the fabric. He tore the jeans off, Lois gasping at the suddenness of it. Her eyes were wide, but not in fear; displays of his powers always woke desire in her. She clawed at his shirt, buttons popping off in her haste.

Kal-El grabbed his own collar and yanked, the shirt tearing a little across his shoulders. Once it was loose, Lois flung it aside, darting her head forward to mouth his neck. Eager for the softness of her skin against his own, Kal-El ran his hands up inside her blouse, letting her help him pull that off, too. He bent to kiss her breasts, nudging the dark red bra aside. With a little hiss of aggravation, Lois twisted far enough away from the wall to reach behind herself and unhook it. Seconds later, her bra joined both shirts on the floor.

That was what he'd wanted. Kal-El kissed the curve of her breast, nuzzling close with a possessive murmur. Whimpering urgently, Lois pulled his face up to hers and kissed him, her hands dropping to his belt. Even as he claimed her lips hungrily, he brushed her hands aside and slipped his thumbs under the belt. One quick move and the leather parted; another tug at the seams and the pants were obligingly gone as well.

Lois pressed herself against him, nipping at his throat. He ran his hands down her sides from her breasts to her hips, his touch greedy. Kal-El nuzzled the corner of her jaw, his breath hot on her neck. "Mine," he growled, hooking his thumbs under her panties and tearing them off.

A harsh shudder rose from her lips at the action, moving in for an almost frenzied kiss amidst curling her body closer around him. Lois had no interest in remaining passive in this, but this forcefulness did her weary heart good and she reveled in every touch. _Free._ After all this time, she had almost forgotten what it was like to feel free, to not have hidden secrets between the two of them. To struggle with a burden so great that she was eventually dragged down by the weight of it. In an instant, Luthor had turned Kal-El's only sin against her into hers against him for the safety of this life together. But no more. Luthor's plans had backfired after all this time. Because Kal-El forgave her. What was between them was inescapable; every press of skin gave testament to that.

Kal-El returned the kiss heatedly, backing away only long enough to cast his boxers aside. Lifting Lois again, he slid into her, both of them moaning at the feeling of coming home again. Perfectly joined in body and soul once more, for a moment they needed no words. Then Kal-El whispered warmly, in those formal tones he only used at the Fortress, "You are mine, I am yours … and I will _never_ let you go."

Her cheek nestled against his hair, both the intimate closeness and his words were enough to make her close her eyes against the rush of emotion. The final shackle broke inside her then. Feeling sudden tears trace over her skin, she knew she hadn't been fast enough. She'd needed to hear those words for so long. In all of this mess, the slim possibility that he might not hate her was the one thing that had kept her going. Nuzzling her lips closer to his ear, she whispered brokenly, "I love you. I love you so much, I didn't want to lose you so soon. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't lose me if you tried," he murmured back, and rolled his hips against hers for one indolent thrust. "And I don't recommend trying." He kissed her then, tasting the salt of her tears, before she could say anything else. The time for talking was over. Slowly at first, he moved within her, neither of them noticing the noise each thrust made against the thin hotel walls.

"Been there, done that. Twice already." Her voice was a whisper, Lois tightening her arms around his neck. "Never again. I promise." Letting the real world slide away for the moment, she concentrated on this world of two. No one had waved a magic wand and fixed everything, there was plenty they still had to work out, but they both needed this in ways that some wouldn't understand. He must have sensed her continuing thoughts as he suddenly gripped the back of her neck. It proved to be a perfect solution. The whimper that rose from her made it all too clear that now he was succeeding in distracting her from the fallout of this argument. The real world could wait for a time. Especially when they would be going to war the next day.

Keeping her pinned against the wall was distracting Kal-El from what he wanted to do most: bury himself in sensation and desire until all of the pain and frustration faded away. Wrapping his arms around Lois, he brought both of them down onto the bed. Her eyes met his for a long moment, searching them for assurance that this was more than just a momentary truce. She found it at once, in the way he looked steadily back at her, and she lay back, pulling him closer as they entwined limbs again. "Come on, then, if that's what you want," Lois whispered with her gaze locked to his, her eyes dark with wanton need. "I want it, too. We came through the fire in one piece. Make me yours."

The words were enough to make Kal-El take a deep, shuddering breath before he set out to remind them both why they could never want anyone else but each other. Lois let him set the pace, arching against him as she ran her hands over the muscles of his back, fingertips trailing over them as if they were Braille spelling out secrets hidden under his skin. He kept his movements slow at first, long lazy thrusts that rocked them together in a rhythm as ancient and irresistible as the sea. All the while, he kept his eyes fixed on hers, watched the slightest change in his motions reflected in her lidded gaze.

The intensity of it was enough to drive her mad. Well, turn about was fair play, even if you were playing for keeps. Lois curled her fingers under and ran her knuckles ever so slowly down his spine, then back up. The way his own eyes darkened at the massaging caress she knew he loved made her smile knowingly, but that victory was soon forgotten when Kal-El slid one hand into the tumbled mass of her hair to cup the back of her neck. The sensitivity was always her downfall; Lois groaned aloud, her eyes rolling back as shivers ran down her spine. Which just made him tighten his grip a little more and stroke the area with his thumb.

After ten years together, the intimacy between them was nearly perfect. Lois and Kal-El each knew exactly what the other wanted at moments like this, the connection between them complete. At last, after months of feeling off-kilter and days of being at each other's throats, they were in harmony again, the bond between them as powerful as ever.

Slow and sultry and sweet, it seemed that time had slowed down for them, letting them savor each moment. Each moment seemed to spin out forever, the trust between them restored by this primal, powerful connection. And when they both fell from the precipice together, Kal-El and Lois landed safely in each other's arms.

Breath coming in quick pants, Lois closed her eyes. The stress of the evening, not to mention the suddenness of events, was overwhelming her. Her body was so exhausted that she felt rather than saw him pull her upright to gently turn them on their sides, pulling her close to shelter her in his arms. And for the first time in a long time, Lois let him. Come what may, nothing would come between them again.

…

Completely unaware of what was happening two rooms away, Jason and Elise were falling asleep. Still side-by-side and carefully not touching, though – neither of them wanted to ruin their second chance by leaping in too quickly. "So your mom…" Elise had to pause to yawn. "Your mom's helping everybody in the JLA keep their identities hidden. That's pretty cool."

"She's Assistant Editor," Jason explained, his eyelids growing heavier. "She's in the right place to kill a story if she has to, or just send someone off on a wild-goose chase." He smiled slightly, proud of Lois. Her contributions behind the scenes had kept Uncle Bruce's name out of the paper even when some of his enemies were determined to expose him.

A moment passed without another question or comment from Elise, and Jason let his eyes drift closed. He would open them again in a moment…

Half an hour later, Elise shifted slightly in her sleep, and Jason reached out to drape an arm around her shoulders.

…

It would have been easy to simply drift off to sleep in the afterglow of their lovemaking, but Kal-El and Lois both had too much on their minds for that. "I love you," he murmured after a long silence, stroking her hair. "I've always loved, I always will love you. Do you believe that now?"

As soon as he said it, she leaned her head against his hand before taking it and kissing the center of his palm. Turning to look over her shoulder at him, Lois gave him a small thoughtful smile. "Yeah. Same way I've always loved you, hero. I think we both made that pretty clear."

He stroked one finger down the bridge of her nose, tracing her features lightly. Even though his recall was perfect, he still loved to etch each tiny detail into his memory. "I don't want to fight like that again."

"That makes two of us." Whereas she would have jerked away an hour before, Lois leaned in to the touch, her eyes never leaving his. She was too languid to sound snappish, so her voice was merely matter-of-fact. "I gotta say it wasn't exactly a walk in the park for me, either."

"So let's not do that again, hmm?" Kal-El asked. "I promise you, Lois, I won't shut you out again. I was only trying not to lean on you when you had so many burdens to bear – but most of my good intentions seem to turn out badly. Especially when I underestimate your strength."

Lois sighed then, dropping her gaze. "Not so strong that no one saw what was happening. I didn't even realize how bad it got until recently. And it wasn't your fault. I didn't say anything except to ask you why you couldn't stay with me. And I didn't want to tell you why. And I felt like a heel even trying."

"You've always had problems admitting to vulnerability," Kal-El murmured, his hand dropping to her shoulder and kneading the muscle there. "Just like I have problems admitting to fallibility, at times. Neither of us is perfect."

"No argument, but my needs turned on a dime one day and I needed you more than the rest of the world for a little while. And after all that madness with you-know-who, I've tried to deal with a lot on my own. Guess that's how I got us into this mess." Lois tried to shrug, but found her shoulders too relaxed.

"You weren't the only one who got us into this," Kal-El said seriously, catching her chin. "I did my fair share. And so did Kala. I'll admit, I _am_ lenient with her, and she _does_ provoke you intentionally." He paused for a long moment, moving to massage her neck, and got a soft groan as Lois relaxed into his ministrations. In a soft voice, he continued, "Lois, I'm not trying to upset you. I think I might know why you're strict with Kala. You don't want her to make the same mistakes you did, right?"

That was enough to make her eyes widen as she looked at him. _Why now? When we had that big wicked fight?_ For a moment, frustration bit deeply, but it was a useless emotion at this point. At least he understood now. Lois bit her tongue for a moment before replying in her calmest voice, "Why couldn't you have understood a month ago?"

He didn't rise for the bait, either. It was past time to take offense over the little things. "Because the kids inherited stubbornness from both of us?" he replied, pulling her close again to kiss her hair. "My point is, I don't think Kala understands what you're trying to do. From her perspective, it must seem as though she can't do anything right where you're concerned. It isn't true, but she might even feel like she's a complete disappointment to you." Kal-El hesitated for a moment, then snuggled even closer to Lois before continuing. "You are not like your father, Lois. You love both of your children, and you've never been disappointed with them for who they are, only for how they behave. But to Kala, it may seem differently."

He could feel her flinch, the mention of herself and the General in the same sentence and in this context making her uncomfortable as always. "She obviously does. And I have no idea where I first screwed up even," Lois murmured in a small, thoughtful tone, troubled by the thought. "You know, I don't know when she started to get the idea that that was the case. It's like one day she was the adorable bossy little monster she'd always been, the next day she's listening to the Chorus of the Damned and watching freakier stuff than Richard does. And everything she says practically has a sign attached that says, "Whatever, Mother'. And it hurts like hell. There was that point where I was tripping over her and now it's like, 'STOP CROWDING ME!' I started losing her before I even knew she was pulling away and I have no idea how to stop it. Or if I'll even have another chance to."

"She still loves you, and you love her," Kal-El pointed out. "That means you both still have chances. We just have to figure out, together, how to fix it." He nuzzled her cheek and added apologetically, "I know haven't been helping. I've let things slide, but I never talked to you about it when I thought you were too strict. I just went easier on her to compensate, mostly because I didn't want to fight with you and make things worse." He chuckled ironically. "Communication could have fixed so many of these problems before they ever became problems."

"I think all of us have been a little worried to rock the boat this last year or so. Between this with Kala, you and the lack of downtime with the League, the little digs Lex was making at me with the KAL chip and all that that I couldn't tell you about, and then what happened with Momma…" Lois grew quiet for a moment, pulling him closer. "I think all of us just thought that if we ignored it, maybe things would change. Go back to the way they used to be. And you can't. You can't go back, no matter how much you want to. What's done is done and you just have to go on."

She tugged at his arm, and Kal-El obliged her by wrapping himself tightly around her. When Lois felt weak, she liked to shelter in his arms – and her reaching for that comfort again was another sign of better days ahead. "Believe me, I know we can't change the past – but we can shape the future. And as always, Lois, you know I'm willing to face whatever the future holds as long as I have you with me."

His wife leaned back against him, acknowledging his words silently. They fell silent again then, the quiet going on for so long that he began to think she had started to doze until he heard Lois murmur softly, "Do you think we'll be okay?"

Kal-El lay there silently, giving the question serious thought as he stroked her arm. Ten years ago, he had barely been able to believe he'd won Lois. Once the fact of their marriage had sunk in, he'd taken it for granted that they would always be together. But the last few months had shown him the folly of that notion. No relationship, no matter how strong, could survive neglect by both of its partners. So he couldn't say 'yes, of course' as easily as he once had. He was no longer that naïve.

But the commitment between them had never wavered. The love was still as powerful as ever. And in spite of miscommunications and good intentions gone bad, here they were, lying close in the dark on the eve of another battle. Still together. "Yes," Kal-El said finally, and the words had more sincerity and surety than the easy response of years past. "We may need a little help picking up the pieces, but you and I will be together always. I think we're going to be just fine."

He heard the smile in her voice as Lois murmured, "I love you." Her breathing slowed, and he knew she was falling asleep. Then, with a sigh of contentment, Kal-El drifted off to sleep to the sound of Lois' heartbeat.

…

Early in the morning, Luthor and Mercy had finalized their preparations. The 'upstairs' facility had been cleaned out, all essential supplies removed and replaced by various traps and monitoring devices. Some of the security staff were already in place, and Luthor was on his way there with Zod and Mercy.

The only direct connection between this place and the actual lab was a long underground tunnel used for transporting crates of supplies. Once part of a mine, it came with some rail tracks installed, and Luthor had adapted and added to the existing system to suit his purposes. The carts that carried the supplies hadn't been intended to carry passengers, but Luthor didn't want to chance Superman seeing any of his staff moving around aboveground, so they were all enduring a bumpy ride. If he found the direct entrance to the facility, well, the four-hundred-foot elevator shaft wouldn't deter the flying hero at all.

Luthor planned to use this same set of tracks to exit to surface facility if they didn't succeed in killing the alien. Then he could trigger the explosives already spaced along the tunnel, and let the falling rocks catch Kal-El following them or delay his pursuit. Either way, Luthor would lose his supply tunnel, so he had spent the night getting the facility stocked for a siege. With all nonessential personnel already off the premises, they could last a long while underground.

Long enough for the fallback plans to his fallback plans to be implemented. He always had a backup plan, no matter how foolproof his current plot was. And this one was fairly airtight. He had the means to track the Kryptonians as they moved around the facility and separate his chosen target from the group.

Luthor smiled, slipping one hand into his pocket. The kryptonite ring on his finger clicked against the steel trigger guard of Lois' Ladysmith revolver, which was already loaded.

…

Lois' eyelids fluttered open, her hair in her eyes, and she groaned before half-closing them again. _Geez._ _Remind me not to take a beating and get laid in the same night_, she thought, slowly sitting up. So many muscles and joints were complaining that she couldn't even separate out the aches, all of it registering as a steady background rumble. "Dammit," she grumbled under her breath. Her left eye didn't want to open…

"Well, you look a sight." That was Lana's voice, accompanied by the welcome scent of coffee. Lois scrabbled for the proffered cup before remembering that she'd gone to sleep right afterward last night. But caffeine was far ahead of modesty at the moment. She tugged the sheets up after her first sip of coffee, finally realizing that Kal-El wasn't beside her.

Lana chuckled. "He wanted to let you sleep until the coffee was done. Everyone's in our room, planning strategy. Richard raided yet another breakfast buffet, so there's even food."

Her stomach immediately added its opinion to the other din in her body at the moment. The reporter grinned, wincing. The corner of her mouth was sore too. Yeah, as much as they had both needed the reconnection, maybe last night had not been the wisest choice. Especially from the look on Red's face. "Let me guess. I look like shit, don't I?" she said with a tired chuckle.

"You look like someone who was in a fight," was the tactful response. The tone was so perfectly polite and so perfectly the redhead that Lois burst out laughing. Only then did Lana smirk. "And who then had a very … enthusiastic evening. It's good to know you two are getting along again."

Hazel eyes widened at that. Once she and Kal-El had gotten into the room, they hadn't even thought about what could have been overheard; all that had mattered was getting to the truth and reconciling. And now that she considered the evening, Lois couldn't help but wince. The hotel walls _were_ pretty thin, so it was pretty clear that they'd heard everything. If it had been anyone else and this had been a normal day, Lois would've had a smart comeback. But with Lana, in these circumstances, she could only look down and blush. "Yeah, you could say that. Sorry, Red."

"Don't be," Lana replied, crossing her arms and smiling at her. "Richard wanted to add his own commentary, but I told him no."

Lois just groaned. Of course Richard couldn't resist sounding off. She'd never hear the end of this one. "I really am sorry … and thank you. I owe you a lot and I know it." She met those sea-green eyes, but Lana looked mildly confused. With a sad and guilty smile, Lois told her, "Clark finally told me who he's been talking to. And why. Seeing as how I _thought_ it was one of his spandex-clad teammates, I'm relieved to know it was you. Thanks for being there for him when he thought I couldn't."

"I did tell him to talk to _you_," Lana pointed out. "But honestly, Lois. He may work with them, but that doesn't mean much. There are only three women he trusts with those parts of his life: Martha, you, and me. Pretty exalted company, hmm?"

Lois had to agree to that. She could hear voices in the next room, so it was time to get up and get moving. "I can't lay in bed forever. We have a lot to do. Like get my daughter back. Lex has separated this family long enough."

"I'll give you your privacy," Lana said with an affectionate smile as she left the room. Lois slowly got out of bed, wincing as she stood up. Her back was the worst – that nasty fall, and then all the arching and flexing last night. The memories brought a smile to her lips. Some war wounds were worth it, despite the handicap.

But first, a hot shower to soothe some of her aches. Lois felt much better afterward, and quickly got dressed. She managed to walk into the other room just in time to hear Richard say, "…hold up scorecards like in the Olympics, but I couldn't find a big enough piece of paper. Besides, Lois was letting you know you'd won the gold."

Clark chuckled at him, shaking his head in amusement. "I know, I heard you. But Richard, I certainly wasn't looking in _your_ direction last night, so the scorecards wouldn't have mattered."

Lois couldn't help snickering at that, and Kal-El turned to see her. He broke into a smile full of relief and the memories of the last night. Lois blushed, ducking his gaze as she moved the rest of the way into the room to stand before him. She took a moment to just look at him, to see the change that last night's revelations had brought about in him. All of the shadows that had been haunting them both had fled for now. Arching an eyebrow and tilting her head, Lois crossed her arms and asked in the same tone she had always used to taunt Clark with back in the day and drawled, "So, Kent, we friends again?"

Clark laughed softly as he rose from the chair. _There_ was his wife, bruises and all, and it was with unadulterated joy that he embraced her. "Lois. I love you." Those simple words said so much, as did the soft kiss against her temple. Last night hadn't been a magic wand to make their problems simply vanish, but it was a powerful reminder of why this marriage was so very much worth fighting for.

From the doorway into the other room came a loud, relieved sigh. "Thank _God_ you two are getting along again," Jason said. "Now can we go get Kala and get back home before we start missing school?"

That got a chuckle from all three adults. Elise stuck her head out from behind Jason, grinning at the sight of Lois and Clark. However, Lois the ever-observant reporter noticed that Elise's hair was wet, and she was wearing Lana's bathrobe. Evidently she'd just come out of a shower… Lois looked at her son, arching one eyebrow.

Jason caught her meaning immediately. "Mom! Come _on_. You raised me better than that."

Elise looked a little confused until Richard snickered. "Yeah, just be glad it was me that found you two curled up together and not my lovely wife." Then she blushed a bit, muttering that it wasn't like that.

"By the way, the hotel had your clothes laundered, so you've got something clean to wear," Lana said, pointing to the plastic bag hanging near the door. Elise hurried through to grab her stuff and headed back, leaving Jason to face his parents.

He forestalled any lecturing by giving them both his sternest look. "Okay, so gross mushiness aside, are you two gonna fight anymore? Because I've had enough of it to last me until I move out."

Lois crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, but Clark simply turned to her. "He gets this from you," he said, and she broke into laughter.

"Yeah, he gets a _lot_ from me," she chuckled, while Jason tried not to grin.

"Epic stubbornness," Richard put in. "And the idea that 'no' just means 'don't let me catch you'. Oh yeah, he's your son just as much as Kala's your daughter."

That gave them all pause, reflecting on the real reason they were here. "We might as well start sharing information, now that we're all here," Clark said. He offered Lois the chair, standing beside it, and Jason leaned against the door jamb. Elise was back at Jason's side within moments, listening intently as Clark told them he'd been updated by Oracle. "Basically, every member of the JLA is busy combating these threats, even the newest ones who've barely had any training. Most of them were caught and imprisoned yesterday, but today we're seeing a new group – the more powerful and dangerous villains. And some of those captured yesterday are back on the streets today."

Lois gnawed her lip. "Mercy was saying something about allies, too, but she meant in the facility. She said…" The reporter faltered, then forced herself to go on. "She said that they were trying to get Kala on their side. She mentioned Stockholm Syndrome. When I laughed at her, that Kala would never join Luthor, she implied that there was someone else down there." She looked up at Clark worriedly.

He was already sending a text message. "I'm asking Oracle if any of my known enemies are conspicuously absent from the fight." Clark chuckled as he met his wife's gaze again. "She's already sent me a message telling me they have the situation under control, and I'm to focus on finding Luthor and getting my daughter back."

"In that case, I may just have to reconsider my opinion of them," she said with a small smirk before going somber and thoughtful again. "I can't see Lex sharing the victory with anyone else in this case. You know how he is about us. Just who the hell would he be willing to team up with? And how could that effect Kala?"

Richard sighed and rubbed his temples. "She does have a bit of a fondness for bad boys. If he had one of the borderline cases – those people where you're not sure if they're a villain or an anti-hero – then maybe. I mean, just standing next to Luthor would make one of those types look like a saint."

"Kala would _never_," Jason cut in, turning a dismayed look on Richard. Elise elbowed him lightly, having a more realistic view of his sister.

"She wouldn't turn on us," Lana said, her voice full of certainty. "But we don't know how she'll react. She's been trapped there for five days now. That's long enough for Stockholm Syndrome to set in. Kala could be used to obeying her captors and might not be ready to run when we get there."

"It would take a lot to break Kala down that far," Lois put in, leaned back in the chair. "I think we all know that she'll lead Lex off the truth if she can, especially since his main plan is to hurt her father. Even if she's angry with me, I think she'd fight to keep his secrets. Jason's, too."

Everyone nodded to that. Hopefully the sight of her father's uniform would wake Kala from whatever nightmare she was walking in, and then they could count on her as an ally instead of just a damsel in need of rescuing.

"This is what we learned yesterday," Richard said, pulling out his notes. He'd circled the map locations of land purchases likely made by Luthor, writing the street addresses neatly beside each. "Lois, do any of these match the information you got?"

The reporter snatched the paper from him, her eyes quickly scanning the list. "Yeah, a few of them. But this one especially." Pointing to a spot only twenty minutes from their current location, she smiled up at her ex grimly. "That's where I was calling you from yesterday. That bitch cornered me in the warehouse there. You were right on the mark with that one."

Richard's mouth quirked up into a grin. "From the looks of your knuckles, Lois, she'll never forget it, either. What about the others?"

Lois returned the grin before glancing at the list again, frowning. "Yeah, this one here. Off Neillkirk." She was tapping a spot just southwest of town, trying to remember anything other than the address. The map showed a small property along a dirt road. "Seems as likely place to try as anything else. But I'm pretty sure that wherever he has her, Lex is keeping her away from sunlight. And probably someplace bigger than what could be in that area."

Clark peered over her shoulder. "Is that another warehouse? Some kind of storage facility, maybe – it's just a box on the map. No landscaping, no windows." Of course, his eyes could see the finest details the image showed.

"Where did you see this address, Lois?" Richard asked. "Even if it's not where Kala is, it might lead us to some clues."

Another grim smile from the dark-haired reporter. "It was stamped on the side of some of the crates in the warehouse. Got a couple of glimpses of it when I was whaling Graves from one side of the place to the other."

"That's a hot lead," Richard said as everyone got their things together and started heading for the door. "All right, let's lock and load, people."

It was what Kal-El said next that made all of them stop and turn to look at him. "Wait. Not all of us are going."

* * *

_A warning to the prophet, the liar, the honest,  
This is war.  
To the leader, the pariah, the victim, the messiah  
This is war._

_It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie,  
The moment to live and the moment to die.  
The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight..._


	44. The Man Behind The Curtain

**Not even sure I can preface these next two chapters. Just brace yourselves. It's going to get wild.** **We'll see you tomorrow for the second one. :D I'm going to try to post before I go to work. I'll update if that changes.**

* * *

Elise had woken up that morning wrapped in Jason's arms, with his warm body curled around her. She'd been shocked to feel so safe; any other guy would've gotten an elbow in the ribs, but this was _Jason_. Even though his arm was around her ribs and his hand was on her chest, she realized it was placed over her heart – not somewhere else, as she would've expected with any typical teenage boy.

And now she knew why he was so willing to take things slow. He could never be a normal boy, obsessed with playing video games and trying to see girls naked. He was a hero in training, and that finally explained why he acted more like twenty-six than sixteen. Sometimes Jason scared her; when she looked into his eyes she saw none of the insecure bravado that most boys affected. He always met her gaze with a frankness she found frightening, because of the desire she felt to return it in kind.

Now, though, she could be that honest with Jason. He and his family had done her a huge honor in letting her know their secret, so it was only right that she trust him. Besides, she had the idea that Jason already knew her a lot better than most of their friends. Because he wasn't busy trying to show the world a front of toughness that he didn't really feel, he had more time to really understand other people.

That new security in her relationship with him had been very useful this morning. Pretty much from the moment she'd got up, they were on a roller coaster. Right after the joyous revelation that Jason's parents had finally _stopped fighting_, he and Elise got briefly called on the carpet for having shared a room. Luckily nothing had happened, and all four adults believed them. Then once she'd gotten changed – maybe letting his parents see her standing beside him in only a bathrobe hadn't been the brightest decision – they fell right into planning.

And just as everyone was getting mobilized for an assault, Mr. Kent brought everything to a screeching halt. "Not all of us are going."

Elise stared at him, but after a moment of reflection she had to admit he was right. She didn't want to face Luthor's henchmen again; nearly getting killed yesterday pretty much met her quota for the week. But what about the rest? She was fairly certain the rest of the family wouldn't take this lying down.

As soon as she thought it, she noticed Mrs. Lane-Kent was giving her husband a narrow-eyed glare. It took considerable effort not to laugh when he responded to the look with a sigh. "Yes, Lois, I think we all know it's an even bet that you're coming. Because you'd follow me anyway if I tried to leave you behind, and at least if you're where I can see you I have a halfway decent chance of saving you."

She grinned at that, her hazel eyes fierce. "I think you've got it backwards, as usual, hero." Elise had always respected Jason's mom, but knowing what she knew now, Lois _needed_ that feral edge to her character just to keep up. Having a family of superheroes required an iron will, nerves of steel, razor-sharp wits, and a host of other powers that Mrs. Lane-Kent possessed in abundance.

With that thought in mind, it shouldn't have surprised her when Jason spoke up. "I'm coming, too."

The response was immediate, the negative clear in the adults' faces. "Absolutely not," Richard told him.

This time it was Clark who spoke up, overriding them both. "Actually, I want all four of you somewhere safe."

Richard sighed. "I understand about the kids and Lana, but you might want some backup, Clark. And I am military trained."

"Which is why I want _you_ to protect _them_."

Lana looked over at Elise, raising an eyebrow slightly, and Elise nodded. She was smart enough to know that she wasn't going to be any good in the line of fire. The redhead put in, "We do need to head back to the records office and finish our research. There's more to learn that we didn't get to when we were interrupted. Elise and Jason would be a big help – and Richard, I'd feel much safer with you there with us."

Richard scowled, but she had a point. Besides, Elise had figured out a while back that Mrs. White could wrap him around her little finger any time she wanted to. Luckily for Richard, she only did it when absolutely necessary. Glaring at Clark and Lois, Richard said, "You two had better keep in touch by phone, though. I want to be able to ride to your rescue if I have to."

"I hope you won't have to, but if you do, I'll be glad to have you watching my back," Mr. Kent said fondly. Elise remembered Jason telling her last night that Mr. White had rescued Superman the last time they tangled with Luthor – he and Lana and Lois, in fact.

But one quarter just couldn't be convinced. Jason was watching all of this with a determined look all too reminiscent of a certain reporter. "I'm not going to argue with you guys. I'm _not_ staying behind," he said, crossing his arms. He had been leaning against the door frame, but now he stood tall, looking his father in the eyes. "I may have messed up yesterday, but I kept Elise safe. I can do the same with you and Mom. And I promised Kala. I'm not going back on it because we're scared. I'm going."

The fact that he wasn't happy that Jason kept pushing the issue was obvious in Kal-El's expression. The last place he wanted his son was in the thick of this. "Jason, you're not ready for this," Clark said, a pleading note buried in the sternness of his voice.

"Is anyone ever ready for something like this?" Jason countered before he could go any further. "We're basically at war, Dad. People younger than me have gone into battle, and they didn't have my powers."

"Son, I don't want you in the line of fire."

The boy pressed on, refusing to give an inch. "How can you ask me to stay behind when I know I can help? Dad, she's my twin sister. I wasn't there when she needed me last time. I let her down. No matter what's happened, you know I can get through to her, even when you and Mom can't. I always have. You two _need_ me."

Before another exchange could come about, one voice cut through the argument. "I think he might be right."

All eyes turned to Lois then, the reporter watching her boy with a complicated light in her eyes. When she continued, her words were thoughtful, if a bit torn. "He might be right. The last thing I want is him in the middle of this. Clark, you know I don't. Hell, we should have shipped him and Elise back home the minute they got out here. But we didn't… I don't know why, but I get the feeling he _has_ to be with us. I was going to be the first to tell him no, but I keep getting a bad feeling about leaving him behind. I don't like it, either, but … maybe it's time. Maybe this is what he's been training for."

Mr. Kent scowled, and Elise caught her breath, looking from Jason to his parents. Were they really going to bring him along on a mission this dangerous? And was Mr. Kent going to lose it again at being balked?

He mulled it over, looking from his wife to his son, and finally gave in with an perturbed sigh. "Far be it from me to argue with a reporter's intuition. It's been right too many times to argue with it. But it doesn't mean I have to like it." Then he swiftly narrowed his eyes at Jason. "You are my son and the heir to the House of El, and I expect you to conduct yourself as such. Jason, there is no room for error this time. Luthor will kill us all if given the slightest opportunity."

"I understand, sir," Jason replied, nodding gravely. Everyone seemed to hold their breath for a moment, amazed at what had just happened.

And then Elise, who couldn't contain herself any longer, flung her arms around Jason's neck and dragged him down into a kiss. His eyes were wide and startled when they broke apart for air. Elise hadn't let go of him, however, and caught his face to glare into his intensely blue and bemused eyes. "You'd better come back in one piece, you hear me, Superboy? Or I'll kick your ass halfway into next week. Got that?"

The solemnity of the moment broken, all of them just wide-eyed at Elise's impetuous show of affection before Lois and Richard burst out laughing. The mirth diminished the tension that had been building fairly efficiently. "Oh man, no wonder he wanted to marry her," Richard wheezed. "Shows you get your good taste in women from me."

…

The sudden sound was like a gunshot going off in the silence of the darkened bedroom, waking the boy out of a sound sleep that even the dead would envy. Sebast was so startled by it, it took a moment to get his heart out of his throat. He was so out-of-sorts that he never even looked to see who his caller was. As if the Godzilla-roar ring tone hadn't already clued him in. "Alo?" Sebast muttered groggily, pressing his cell phone against his ear.

"Sebast? Are you awake? It's me, Jason."

_Kala._ That brought him around quickly, no mean feat the last couple of days. "I am now." For his part in helping Jason and Elise stow away, he had been grounded with no internet access or television. Fortunately they'd let him keep his cell phone to get updates on what was going on with the search for Kala. Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing to do except chores, so he found himself sleeping in as much as possible.

"Listen, I've got good news," Jason was saying, and it occurred to Sebast that he sounded almost like his old self again. The bewildered kid whose staring eyes couldn't quite reconcile Kala's absence was gone, and Sebast smiled a little to think his own bit of shock therapy yesterday might have helped. _Someone_ had to snap Jason back into operating at peak efficiency if he was going to be able to find Kala and bring her home.

"That's what I wanna hear, _amigo_, so lay it on me." Sebast was sitting up now, bracing himself for whatever news Kala's twin had for him.

"We think we know where she is, and we're going after her today. I'm going in with Mom and Dad. If all goes well, I'll be calling you tonight to let you know when we're arriving back in Metropolis."

_Thank you, God_. That was it, exactly what he'd been waiting the last two days for. "Hot damn! Jason, that's the best news I've heard in _years_."

"I can't stay on the phone long; we're headed out soon. But I wanted you to know." Jason paused, and then added, "And Sebast? Thanks for the kick in the pants yesterday. I needed that."

"_Mano_, whatever you need, I got it. Whether it's a kick or a kiss, you know? Bring my girl back, and the world is yours."

He heard Jason laugh softly. There was more going on in that little chuckle than a million words could say. "Just help me convince her not to run off again, and we're even. I'll talk to you later, Sebast."

"Good luck. See you when you get here. Let me know the minute you guys touch down, huh?" When Sebast flipped the phone closed, he let out a huge sigh of relief. At last, they had a solid lead on Kala. Once Jason got her home, she was going to get a serious talking-to from her best friend. No matter _what_ bullshit some little spy-slut said, no matter how stupid said best friend had been to believe it even for a second, Kala should never had taken off without consulting him.

Of course, now he had to start worrying all over again. It wasn't as if they were simply going to waltz into Luthor's lair and pick Kala up. And this guy had tried to kill them all before. Kala had been with him for several days now, no one able to help her in any way. At that thought, Sebast felt his stomach cramp, and put his head down. _Good luck. God, please let them all get out in one piece. _

…

Kala's sense of time was no longer reliable, but she thought it was early morning. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her body relaxed as if in sleep while her mind raced. Zod had given her a great deal to think about, and keeping her focus on the present served two goals. One, it kept her alert to her surroundings, which she had never forgotten were potentially fatal. Two, it helped stop thoughts of home from creeping back into her consciousness.

He was right about that; she couldn't afford nostalgia right now. Last week her biggest worries were about kissing Nick, singing at Fuel, dealing with Mom's bitchiness, and trying to keep from throttling Jason's rebound. Now she had an assortment of ex-cons wanting to molest her, scientists wanting to dissect her, and Luthor above all wanting to use her for bait. And it hadn't escaped Kala that most bait, even for large fish, was cut up first.

No, she had to narrow her mind to the here and now if she wanted to survive. So she went over her language lessons with Zod. Luthor hadn't been pestering her since the last round of information she'd been able to unlock, but she knew he wouldn't rest until he had every last scrap of knowledge, so she had to improve her Kryptonese.

She had already come so far. Only in extremely technical discussions did she have to ask Zod the meaning of a word, and the pair of them had stopped using English entirely. That language felt strange on her tongue when she'd taunted Mercy yesterday, as if it was part of a long-dead past.

Her present was Kryptonian in word, thought, and deed. Kala had even changed her hairstyle, pinning it up as a lady of a noble house would wear it. Zod had shown her the style and the headdress that would have accompanied it. Her wrist had only twinged slightly while she was arranging her hair; swift healing was another benefit of her heritage.

Meanwhile her future was uncertain, and she spared it no thought. Only the immediate future was in the scope of her plans: the next moment, the next hour. That was all she could afford. Things were too precarious to plan further.

Sometimes the longing for familiar faces and places would rise up and threaten to swallow her; she would have let Sebast think whatever he wanted about her, if only she could burrow into one of his hugs and let the rest of the world go to hell. And her father – she would bear any disappointed scolding he could come up with, if he would only save her. She knew he was nearby, but why hadn't he come? Why hadn't _Mom_ come? Lois was close enough to kick Mercy's ass, so why hadn't she found this place yet? Would they _ever_ find it, as carefully as Luthor had planned this?

She missed Kristin's bright eyes, Daddy Richard's bad jokes, and Lana's quiet affection. Kala would _not_ believe the headline Luthor had shown her. Lana could still be alive. She had to be. Losing Nana had been hard enough.

Worst of all was the ache in her soul where Jason usually abided. She'd never been away from her twin for so long, and the lack of him was like a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

No, she couldn't think about that. Kala knew her room was still being monitored, and she would not give Luthor the satisfaction of seeing her cry from sheer loneliness. Relentlessly, she forced aside the frightened, homesick part of herself. That girl couldn't help her now. Kala needed the strongest side of herself, the Daughter of Krypton who could look those rapists and murderers in the eye with cold disdain, for they were only human filth and she could destroy them if they so much as touched her. That young woman was strong of mind and will, powerful enough to resist all of Luthor's attempts to warp her mind. She would not fall for his schemes. He too was merely human, and soon enough would learn the error of his ways.

It was far better to focus on her lessons. Zod had taught her so much. They had moved on from Krypton's past into the history of the world on which they currently stood. Kala had always enjoyed learning about history, but in sharing her knowledge with Zod, she saw things in a new light.

Centuries of senseless slaughter stretched out behind her. Even the very nation she lived in had been born in blood and sorrow. The original colonists may have been justified in rebelling against the British government, but nothing could justify the way the native peoples had been systematically pushed aside by wars, broken treaties, and the deliberate spread of infectious diseases.

Humans, Zod had pointed out, were the only creatures on the planet that would imprison, rape, torture, and kill for _ideas_. Nature was certainly cruel, but at least the actions of the so-called lesser animals had a sound basis in instinct and self-interest. Lions slaughtered their prey to feed themselves, and even a rabbit would kill a snake to defend her young. Only humans butchered each other over the ways in which they chose to worship their God. Sheer, savage madness.

Such things had been unheard of on Krypton, as Zod told her. Even the blood on his own hands, must as he regretted spilling it, had been part of an attempt to save an entire world. The High Council had reached the point where reason could not sway them, and he had been forced to use violence instead. But even he, proclaimed the worst criminal in all Krypton's history, had never taken a life because of someone's race or creed.

He had not been himself when he arrived on this world. Perhaps, if things had gone a little differently, the brilliant strategist would be one of her father's trusted advisors instead of a reviled enemy. After all, Zod and Jor-El had been close friends, and the great scientist had respected the general's tactical genius. Zod had exactly the kind of mindset they needed to defeat Luthor. If only he'd been given a second chance…

Perhaps if he had had someone by his side who knew this world and all of its foibles. Someone who understood humanity's strengths as well as its many weaknesses. Someone who could show him where to apply force and where to use diplomacy instead. Someone who could curb his thirst for vengeance and temper his impatience with the defiance of this wasteful, backward people he found himself among.

Had there been someone like that from the beginning, perhaps the world would be a very different place today.

…

Martha smiled at the scene happening outside her kitchen window. Like any wise country grandmother, she had put the city-born kids to work, knowing that they would be eager to help out with chores that seemed novel and exciting. And they were even happy to wake at this early hour, awed by the hushed dawn over the broad plains. At this very moment, the three youngest were in the yard under Lucy's supervision, helping shovel a path through last night's snowfall to the chicken coop. They flung the snow off their small shovels with more enthusiasm than accuracy, but it hardly mattered. The snow wasn't deep, and would soon be tromped down.

The scene was a pleasant distraction from her worries. If she was entirely honest, the house full of people had been such a blessing, making the time between updates more bearable. There hadn't been any news on the search for Kala since yesterday, and she knew what the family was dealing with. It was all she could do to keep herself adequately preoccupied. But with kids in the house, that wasn't too hard.

As if her anxiety had conjured a call, her cell phone rang, and she snatched it out of her pocket. "Hello?"

"Ma? It's me."

"Hello, Clark." His voice, low and steady, soothed the worst of her fears. "How is everything going?"

"We're going out to look at another location this morning," he told her. "This could be the one, Ma. There's a very good chance we could find her today."

Martha closed her eyes and let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. The possibility of her grandchild being close enough to hold was almost enough to bring tears. "Thank the Lord," Martha murmured. "Son, you be careful."

His voice was grim when he replied, "I will, Ma. Luthor knows we're in the area. He'll be prepared. But we have to rescue her."

Martha bit her lip. Why on earth did this man Luthor hate her son so much? Heroes like her boy were meant to inspire the greatness of the human spirit, but not everyone felt the same. Some, like Luthor, could only answer his glory with their own savage, merciless greed. "You _will_ come out of this the winner," she told Clark without hesitation.

"I wish I had your assurance."

"Yes, but I know who's on your side," Martha told him coyly, and she heard Clark chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I would really appreciate some prayers today, Ma. I'll be sending up a few of my own, too." He certainly sounded stressed, but not as close to the breaking point as he had been recently.

"I'll be glad to oblige. How is everything else?" she asked, wondering at the tone of his voice. Was that relief beneath the worry over the day?

Clark sighed, but she could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. "Trust you to figure it out. _Yes_, Ma, Lois and I had a long, serious talk, and we made up. We're going to look into counseling once this is over. But we're not giving up on each other."

"Good for you both," Martha said, her vehemence startling him. "Son, I may not have been sure of her when we first met, but you _need_ Lois. She needs you, too. And none of us are fans of you two spitting at each other like wildcats. I'm glad you've got things right between you."

Again that soft laugh. "Me too. You have no idea how glad. Ma, we need to start heading out. I love you."

"I love you too, son. Bring Kala home to us. Good luck, and God bless." Once she hung up the phone, Martha closed her eyes again to send up a brief, fervent prayer for the safety of her son and his whole family.

…

Once everyone was preoccupied with coordination, Lois caught Elise's shoulder and steered her away from the others. "C'mere, kiddo. You and I need to have a minute. There's a couple of things I need to talk to you about."

Elise's eyes widened worriedly. "All right, Mrs. Lane-Kent." By the nervousness of her voice, she expected a lecture.

Just glancing at her, Lois gave a short burst of laughter. Something had to be done about that before it drove her nuts. Grinning at her as they walked into the room next door, the reporter went to sit in the chair across from the bed. "Okay, first order of business. The name? I think we've done enough of that. Anyone who knows that I had Superman's babies has earned the right to call me by my first name. Got me?"

Biting her lip, Elise looked distressed and amused at the same time while sitting down on the edge of the bed. There just didn't seem a right answer to that. Especially when you were faced with the reality of who the woman in front of her actually was as a whole. How exactly did Jason's mom think that she could simply first-name her? With an embarrassed shrug, Elise finally confessed, "I just … feel weird calling you Lois. Can we compromise with Mom, maybe? Sebast does it."

The older woman gave a snort of amusement at that. "That brings me up to, what? Five kids now? Sure, why not?" The wide grin sobered a little then, her eyes honest and a little concerned when she searched Elise's face. "So, now to the second topic for debate. Are you okay? With all of this, I mean. It's a hell of a lot to take in; I know, I've been there. Especially under the circumstances that this got sprung on you. At least I had a little more heads-up when it happened to me."

Still feeling a bit of trepidation, Elise sighed before answering. "I … yeah, it's a lot to think about. I mean, I always knew Jason was weird – in a good way," she hastened to add. "But knowing he's, well, part alien… It explains a lot. He's not like a lot of boys, and I always liked that about him, even when it was creeping me out. Not that he's ever been creepy. He just always acted a lot older and more sure of himself and … a whole lot _smarter_ than guys his age usually are. It was just too perfect, and with the way he won't talk about some things, I wondered what he was hiding. Now I know." She shrugged at then, trying to express how knowing the secret was more relief than burden to her.

Lois was nodding slowly, pausing for a moment before asking, "So it's not weirding you out at all that he's not just a normal, totally human boy?" It felt so strange to say this about her own son; she'd never herself considered them any different than other kids, but that was because they were hers. Everyone else's perceptions might not be nearly as open.

Elise chuckled at that, the sound making Lois' heart feel infinitely lighter. It seemed that she might just have found a kindred spirit in the girl. "C'mon, I always knew he wasn't _normal_. He'd rather play chess than World of Warcraft. He never tries to bluff about how strong or how macho he is. I just couldn't figure out why he was like that. And honestly? So he's not fully human. Obviously Mr. Kent has got to be very, very close to human to be able to hybridize with us. The only differences I've noticed are actually improvements on typical teenage boy behavior." She cast a look at the older woman that was smugly amused by that fact.

Lois couldn't hold in the laughter on that. It had been a long worrisome road for her ever since the twins had become teenagers, fretting about the day when one of them would finally be forced to leak the truth about their parentage to someone. It hadn't ever just been about the chance of discovery; what was even more terrifying was the possibility of rejection. There were no words for the relief that spread through her once she could see Elise had been completely serious. Obviously Fate actually was looking out for the lot of them in some way. Although it just figured it was someone fascinated with the heavens. Things might change at some point in the future, when the pressures of being with him got to her, but Elise was a perfect choice and Lois was grateful he had found her so early. "You'll have to tell him that some time. He doesn't hear it much from certain people," she chuckled. "Since it's a given that I'm going trust you, I have to say that we, and Jason, are lucky to have you. So, anything straining your brain? If there is, now's the time to ask it. I'm not sure when we'll have the time to talk about any of this again."

Elise opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The question that was on the tip of her tongue was _How do you do it, how do you handle being a part of the heroes' world_; however, it just didn't seem like the right time to pry into that sort of thing. Maybe when all of this was over she'd ask. For now she just laughed. "I'm sorry, Mom, it's just that it's so new, I haven't figured out what to ask. Can I get a rain check?"

The grin reappeared, Lois shaking her head a little in amusement. "It's going to take me a little while to get used to that, but I definitely prefer it over the full name." Jason's mother rose from the chair, walking over to set her hand on Elise's shoulder. "I haven't got a clue how things are going to turn out today, but I'll say this. I'm glad that you and Jason have gotten things settled between you, at least a little. Hell, _I'm_ glad you're back." Her grin grew into a conspiratorial smile when she added, "And you'll never be alone in this. When the questions do start to come to mind, and they will, come talk to me. I'll be here. Remember, I wrote the rulebook."

Laying her hand over Lois' and giving it a little squeeze, Elise beamed up at her. "Thanks. I'm glad that you're glad – I was kinda worried you were going to warn me away from the future superhero there."

The reporter cocked her head, looking all too knowing. "Elise, I was your age once. I know that warning either of you off won't do any good. Didn't work when my mother tried to talk sense to me about relationships. All I can say is that it's not going to be easy, sweetheart. He's my son and I love him very much, but that doesn't change the reality of things. It wasn't always easy for me and I was about ten years older than you and a lot more experienced with the ways relationships work in the real world when I started up with Clark. But if you can hold on, the moments you have are worth all of the BS you deal with. And I really hope you can."

Taking that for the honest advice it was, Elise only nodded. "All I can do is try. He's worth it."

That earned her a nod in return, the smile starting to brighten again. "All right. I think we can leave it at that. C'mon, let's see what the final plans are, shall we? If all goes well, we'll be back in Metropolis by evening and we'll get you in before your parents call to check up on you tonight."

The cheer in her words was forced now with her mind changing tracks, the difference clear to Elise, but they both pretended that they didn't hear the anxiety underneath as they rejoined the others.

…

Perry knew trouble when he smelled it. It traveled in a cloud of Polo cologne, and it had just arrived in his office.

The Editor-in-Chief didn't bother to look up from the spreadsheets he was reading. "Mr. Graff," he said by way of greeting. This particular investor was one of his least favorites, a corporate swine who valued only profit. At the end of the day, journalistic integrity and the _Planet_'s traditions meant less to him than the dirt on the soles of his Italian loafers.

"Perry White," the investor grunted, and took a seat without waiting for invitation. "You had better wise up, Perry."

"Didn't know we were on first-name terms, Kingston." Perry paid him only marginal attention. He had bigger fish to fry; but still, it wouldn't do to forget that this man was heavily invested with ECI and other capital firms. Rumors were that he had less-than-savory connections as well, but if Intergang was using him, it was only for his money. The gangsters had no respect for a man who was, at heart, little more than a boot-licker for stronger, more ruthless, and richer masters.

"Don't get smart, Perry," Graff growled.

"Thought that was a valued quality in the head of a company you're invested in," Perry replied, still not looking up. The threatening tone had his attention, however, and as he spoke he casually brushed the intercom button on his phone. In Lois' office, Laurel looked up in confusion. At least he had a witness to this conversation now. He trusted Laurel to have the sense to keep quiet and listen.

Graff smacked the spreadsheet flat onto the desk, tearing it from Perry's hands. "You think you're funny, huh? You're wrong, Perry. Right now is no time to get smart. What you want to do is smile and play dumb."

The editor looked at him scornfully. It helped that in his long journalistic career he'd heard speeches like this delivered by men who were armed with more than nasty attitudes. Graff couldn't really harm him, so he could be as rude as he wanted. And right now, he wanted to be _very_ rude. "Sorry, Kingston, that's not in my plans at the moment. I'm pretty busy, so why don't you take your half-assed threats out of my office before I call security and have you thrown out?"

Graff's eyes narrowed. "I don't think you understand. This is your last warning, White. We've noticed that you're buying up the stock. You may as well quit. This deal is going down whether you like it or not, and if you cooperate we…"

Perry scoffed, interrupting him. "Once you start with the first-name business, it's not intimidating to go back to surnames. Don't you have any idea what you're doing? Great Caesar's ghost, is it _that_ hard being the messenger?" When Graff didn't have an immediate reply, blinking in surprise, Perry's voice rose. "Let me help you out here, since you're even incompetent at delivering a threat. I already know who you work for. I already know how far the conniving bastard will go to get what he wants. And I already know I'm not going to give it to him."

Heads were turning in the bullpen as Perry rose from his seat and ratcheted up to his full Monday Morning Massacre volume of scathing disdain. "You can crawl back to Luthor on your belly like the snake you are, Graff, and tell him _he will __**not**__ get this paper_. He can threaten me all he wants. He's already taken a shot at my nephew and my niece-in-law. I'm not going to forgive _that_ and play nice. Not now, not ever."

A couple of the senior reporters were sidling near the door as Perry continued to roar at the bewildered investor. "Luthor wouldn't have bothered sending you unless we were damn close to beating him. You let him know we're going to fight to the end, and he's going to lose – just like every time he tangles with us."

Graff finally stood up. "Remember that I tried to warn you. You can keep your bluster, old man, if it'll help you keep warm when you're on the street and out of a job. The simple fact is, this war is going to be fought by money, and our side's got much deeper pockets than you do."

Perry barked laughter. "You idiot, you think I'm going it alone? We already own thirty percent of the company – between myself _and the employees_, none of whom will work for Luthor. Now get out of my office. Go tell your boss we wouldn't take his deal if he sent it on a silver platter."

The _Planet_ staff broke into applause, startling Graff. When he turned around to see all of them staring hard-eyed at him, he quickly left. Perry only nodded; he'd wanted them to hear that. The confrontation and the sight of their foe scurrying away would hearten them. The truth was, they were still in a great deal of danger.

Ignoring the triumphant mêlée in the bullpen, Laurel took out her cell phone and dialed a familiar number.


	45. Come What May

The fact that they were finally this close to recovering Kala was almost unreal and they were all tense with thoughts of the battle ahead. All three Kents were very aware of what they were potentially walking into. Lois was at the wheel as they drove through the silent desert, with Kal-El in the passenger seat and Jason in the back of the rented car. Their current plan was to pass the facility, letting both sets of x-ray vision check it out, and then they would conceal the car somewhere to figure out a concealed method of approach.

The road they were traveling wound through the low hills covered in desert scrub. Some people enjoyed this kind of landscape, found its stillness and sparseness enthralling, but Lois wasn't one of them. It looked barren and forbidding to her, and the chill air outside didn't help either. Between that, worrying about her husband and her son, and still not knowing if Kala was okay, Lois' anxiety was running at an all-time high. In the end, she spoke because the lack of voices was spooking her. "It should be up ahead." Concentrating on keeping a steady speed, she relied on the other two for visual conformation. She herself couldn't see anything, but the GPS said they were almost there.

As she expected, it was her husband that got the first sighting, a faraway look in his eyes. "You're right. I can see it. On the other side of that hill…"

His voice trailed off, and Jason leaned forward between the two front seats. The teenager squinted as hard as he could, then said, "I see it, too. But I can't see inside the walls."

"Me, neither," Kal-El said in disgust, frowning. "The walls must be lead-lined."

Lois swore under her breath. "Damn Luthor. Then again, are any of us surprised? At least it's a sign we're on to something he doesn't want us to see. Then again, he's just perverse enough to have done it even if there's nothing in there. It shouldn't be a shocker."

The stormy look on Kal-El's face made it very clear exactly how he felt about the situation. "No, it shouldn't, but also means that we'll be going in blind. I don't like it."

Lois reached over and took his hand, willing him to look at her. Putting all of the confidence she had into her voice, she murmured, "Listen, neither do I, but we both know that's just how he wants it. He's had ten years to plan all of this. But right now he has Kala and we don't have much choice. It's not the worst odds we've ever been up against. And we've always beat him, haven't we? Have a little faith in us, okay? We _can_ do this."

Smiling at her, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. "You're right, as usual, Lois. And thank you for the encouragement. Looks like I married a cheerleader after all."

She caught his meaning immediately, from the look of the smirk she gave him. Rolling her eyes at the grand gesture, she nevertheless squeezed his hand and there was a hint of pleasure glinting in her eyes. "Oh, give me a break. If you're going to be a dork, never mind. We have better things to be doing than distracting our son from the rescue by grossing him out."

A pointed reply came from the back seat as Jason sighed. "Thank you. Now would one of you _please_ look at the road and not each other?" That got a quiet chuckle from both parents.

They managed to find a place several miles away to leave the car where it wouldn't be too conspicuous, and Kal-El changed into uniform to fly Lois and Jason back to the site. They flew low, skimming the ground in case Luthor was scanning with radar. Jason couldn't help lifting up his feet every time they shot over a cactus. He had never liked flying, and being this close to the ground reminded him why. It was just too out-of-control for him. Not that he didn't trust Dad, but being powerless to steer around the rocks and thorns simply wasn't his idea of fun.

Kal-El landed them all one ridge away from the actual site, and used his x-ray vision to get a thorough look at the building. "That's … actually pretty odd. I'm not seeing any surveillance equipment."

Yeah, right. Lex never did anything without calculating exactly how much damage it would cause and what he would get out of it. Lois gave a soft snort of wry amusement. "We both know better than that. He's just planned better this time for hiding them. How about entrances?"

"There's a loading dock with a pair of roll-up doors, and a locked steel door beside that. There's also what looks like a garage on the side of the building – basically a big shed with another roll-up door."

Jason strained his vision to confirm that. "Not very many cars in the garage, and they're dusty," he offered.

The reporter crossed her arms while she mulled over their options. Not that there were many. "So we're either going through the garage or through the dock," Lois mused aloud. "There's more cover in the garage, I think."

"And I just spotted a surveillance camera at the dock," Kal-El added with a grimace. "It's recessed above the door."

The reporter considered the choices at hand. The dock, for multiple reasons, was out. That left the garage, which had its own reasons to make her leery. Knowing the way Lex's mind worked, and the fact that the place was obviously unused, it might very well be that room that was a trap. Both had their disadvantages, which was the less of the two? "Let's go with the garage. Should be a little easier to spot any of his little surprises. Agreed?"

"Yes," Kal-El replied, only to stop them both when they started to move forward. "Before we do this, there's one thing we need to discuss." Lois shot him an annoyed look; locked into and fully committed to their current plan, the General's Daughter hated deviations. Though the way he was looking at them both did the trick this time.

He had only just gotten the words out when Jason supplied dutifully, "Do as you're told, don't take risks, watch your own back and everyone else's. That much I already figured out."

That brought a surprisingly warm smile from his father. "No, Jason, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind. You've both got your cell phones, right?" When Lois and Jason nodded in reply, he continued, "I'm going to give you the direct number for Oracle. If anything happens to me, I want both of you to get out as fast as you can, and send her a text. We should have enough signal for that."

Jason bit his lip. Could he really leave his father behind if something did happen? Kal-El evidently saw his expression. "I'm giving it to both of you in the hopes that at least one of you will be able to get out. This _is_ Luthor we're talking about. So if you have the chance, take it. That goes for both of you. All right?"

He left unspoken the fact that if his wife or son were trapped, he wouldn't be running for backup. Of all the amazing things Superman could do, that simply wasn't one of them. When Jason and Lois both reluctantly agreed, he gave them the number. "You need to send the message in code. Just send, 'Could you bring a new deck for five card stud? The king of diamonds is missing from this one.' Five card stud means an emergency, and I'm the king of diamonds. She'll be able to track the phone's location and know who it's from, so you don't have to tell her that."

Lois' somber expression grew more grave then. Something about his giving the both of them the code chilled her in ways all of this morning's discussion hadn't. It was the same feeling she'd had before seconding Jason's coming with them. There was no explaining it, just a hunch. One that was growing more unsettling by the second. Her hazel eyes didn't leave Kal-El's, but her words were directed at her son when she said calmly, "Repeat it. I want to know you can remember that if you need it, Jason."

That evoked a confused frown at his mother. It wasn't as if he really needed to remember the code. If anything, _she_ would be the one headed out of trouble while he covered her escape. But Mom was implacable in most things, so he humored her. "Bring a new deck for five card stud. The king of diamonds is missing from this one."

That calmed her heart just enough to get her back under control. Her every maternal instinct was still baying in protest over their bringing him into this, hated having him in the line of fire, but she couldn't ignore whatever warning was being given to her. With Luthor involved, it was better to have him close, and the more to fight against the maniac, the better the result. Facing him, she noticed that he was watching her wonderingly, clearly trying to puzzle out what she was thinking. Seeing his worry, the need to try to fix things, just made her heart clench. "Good," she said gently, coming forward to catch his chin. "Jason, your dad's right. No matter how brave you are or how big a help you could be, none of us know what we're walking into. If we get separated for more than a few minutes or you get in over your head, I want you to run. No acting brave when they outnumber or outclass you. Do you hear me? This man is crazy, he has a lot of money now and a lot of hired hands, and he's tried to kill all of us before. We clear on that?"

He should have felt offended, but he knew what his mother was getting at. She had always been like this, wanting to shield him and Kal from the worst of things in life, even if it meant holding the mirror a little too close to warn you of your lack of experience or ability. Until all of this had happened, he'd never really known how far she would go. Rather than argue, he just nodded and pulled her into a hug. "I know how crazy he is, Mom," Jason replied quietly against her shoulder. "I haven't forgotten that he held a kryptonite shiv to my throat to make you give up your gun." Hopefully that would silence her objections before she realized he hadn't agreed to run. At least she hadn't made him promise.

His mother just watched him for a silent moment once they pulled back. The Tremaine eyes took in everything about him, giving him the impression that she was committing something to memory. It felt like a punch to the gut when he became aware of what she was doing. _She's actually scared. Oh, God, we're going to be okay. Don't do this, Mom._ The frantic thread of his thoughts must have shown on his face because his mother smiled then, full of warmth. "My brave boy. Just remember that, okay? Things will probably be pretty crazy once this starts."

Afraid to say anything else, he reached out to squeeze her hand. His voice was little more than a whisper, only managing, "Yes, ma'am." She was turning away then, trying to keep her composure when her eyes landed on her husband.

Again, time seemed to stop, narrowed down to the two of them. It wasn't the first time they'd been in a situation like this. And after the events of yesterday, this should be a cake-walk. Lois privately thought that jumping into the fire together willingly had always been one of their strengths. In a moment like this, when your whole world hinged on a series of actions and reactions you had no way of guessing, what could be said? Not willing to let her emotions get away from her in spite of her worry, Lois gave him a challenging smile. He knew how she felt, both of them on the same page now more than ever. Locking her emotions in place and getting her mind set for anything, the General's Daughter turned and started away. Better now than never.

Kal-El caught her hand, tugging gently to turn her back to him. They were locked and loaded, but not quite yet ready. Some things remained to be said, in light of the danger they were all about to face. When her questioning gaze rose to his, he smiled gently. "One last thing." Kal-El turned from her to Jason, making a point of meeting both their gazes. His cerulean eyes were steady and sure. "No matter what happens, I want you to know that I love you, and I am so very proud of both of you. Lois, I was never happier than the day I married you – and Jason, part of the reason I was so happy was that you were finally officially my son."

Jason's throat tightened, and all he could do was hug his father. Why they always like this right before they went into a fight? The way Mom and Dad were talking, they almost sounded like they didn't expect anyone to survive this. Jason privately vowed that he wouldn't let that happen. Mom could be the one to call for backup. If Luthor tried to kill Dad, he would quickly learn that Superman wasn't the only hero in this family.

When they pulled back, Lois was shaking her head at them. If this went on much longer, they'd never leave and it was time to move out. She grinned at the two most important men in her life and jerked her head at their destination. "Come on; enough of that, you two. We've got to stop this. It's not the end of the world. We go in, get Kala, get out. Then we call the League down on his head, if we even need to do that. It's just one more fight to be together. And we've always come out the victors. It's time to bring the battle to him. It's time for Kala to come home."

"Damn right," Jason said, his voice a little rough.

Kal-El pulled Lois to him for a quick hug, then returned his attention to the battle plan. "We'll circle around to the opposite side of the garage. I'll cut a hole in the sheet metal to give us access. Then we can work on getting through the door to the interior. You've got your lock picks, right, Lois?"

With a disbelieving snort of amusement, she grinned at him in that reckless and brilliant way she always did just before doing something insanely dangerous and utterly Lois. "That's like asking if the _Star_ is only good for lining a litter box. _Of course_. Let's do this."

It was the first time she could ever remember him looking that thrilled that she had instruments totally dedicated to illegal entry in her back pocket. And he seemed rather amused by it, too. "That's my girl." On that note, he led the way to the side of the garage.

She just laughed as she and Jason followed, muttering under her voice, "Guess there's a first time for everything. I'll remind you of this the next time Mags wants to take me in for breaking and entering, hero."

…

Lana and Richard had taken Elise with them as planned. The car was loaded with their luggage; once they were done at the records office, they were going to head out of the area and get a hotel room somewhere else. Luthor had to know the pressure was on, and he might decide that attacking the three of them was a good way to distract the Lane-Kents. So the less time they spent in one place, the better. The only thing going for their current trip was the fact that Luthor might think they weren't foolish enough to return to a place where he'd caught them before.

They wouldn't have bothered to return at all, except Richard had been in the middle of government records when he and Lana had left yesterday. He had a feeling there was something of importance there; he'd only glanced at the documents, but something kept nagging him about them.

He and Lana had charmed their way back into the files, Elise tagging along, and they were now hunting for that one little point of relevance that Richard had subconsciously noted. Lana was the first to speak up. "Oh, my God," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Richard, there's a decommissioned underground facility out in the hills somewhere."

The pilot sucked in a stunned breath. "He'd have a ready-made base; all he'd have to do is hook it up for power and water. And he's smart enough to do that without the government finding out."

Elise hurried to Lana's side, peering at the documents spread out on the table. The information was scanty, but the land had clearly been sold to a private owner thirteen years ago. Her sharp eyes spotted something Lana and Richard hadn't seen yet. "Hey, guys? This is right off the road Mr. and Mrs. Kent are heading down."

Richard swore under his breath and snatched out his cell phone to call them. "They have no idea what they're walking into. There's probably miles of tunnels underground…"

Even as he dialed, Lana's phone rang, and she answered it. "Kay, we're a bit busy," she said gently.

"Yeah, well, we have a situation," Kay told her. "Thank God you're finally somewhere with cell service. Listen, Luthor's making a bid to take over the _Daily Planet_."

"He's _what_?" Lana yelped, startling Elise and Richard.

"Perry and the employees are fighting him, but it's a battle for shares of stock right now," Kay explained. "If Luthor and his cronies get a controlling interest…"

"We can't let that happen," Lana replied instantly.

Kay laughed, an oddly strangled sound. "That's what I thought you'd say. Listen, Laurel just called me and said one of the investors was there making threats. This deal is going down _today_."

"You've got power of attorney. Call the broker and use my money," Lana told her. She had Richard's full attention, her husband practically leaping out of his shoes with impatience. Elise was watching her too.

"I already did," Kay said meekly. "I'm sorry, Lana, I couldn't reach you…"

Lana stood up very straight. "How much?" she asked, her voice quiet and steady.

"Twenty-five thousand from your checking…" Kay's voice trailed off miserably.

"Well, leave my checking account alone, I might need it soon," Lana replied. "Take it from the savings, instead. Just don't touch the earmarked accounts or the trust funds. That should give you around six hundred thousand to work with."

Kay almost choked. "That ought to do it. Lana, I just…"

"Tell Perry not to thank me. I'm already invested in the paper, I'm just increasing my shares so I can dictate when Lois and Clark get vacation," Lana replied lightly. After a few more minutes of conversation, mostly Kay stammering in relief, she ended the call.

"Six hundred thousand?" Richard said. "For what?"

"Luthor's trying to buy your uncle's paper," Lana replied. "By the time this is over, Perry and I will probably own it jointly. In fact, I'd better call my broker and tell him he can shift some of my investments around."

Richard shook his head, ignoring Elise's shell-shocked look, and went back to trying to reach Lois or Clark to warn them.

…

As they entered the darkened building, Jason kept close to Mom, trying to watch all sides at once. He focused his hearing to make up for his inability to use the X-ray vision; it had never been his strongest power, but every little bit counted now. Although it did have drawbacks. So riveted was his attention that when Dad cursed under his breath, it startled him. He whipped around wide-eyed; they had only just gotten inside. How could things be going wrong already? From beside him, Lois hissed, "What is it?"

Kal-El's voice was a frustrated growl. "The interior walls are lead-lined, too. No wonder I couldn't find her. He's been keeping her deliberately shielded. Doubly so, if this place is set up the way I think it is."

That was enough to have Jason biting his lip to keep from swearing. Lois, meanwhile, was rolling her eyes. Where Luthor was concerned, nothing surprised her. "About what we expected from him. He's underground." Which just edged her tension up a notch, but that wasn't such a bad thing at a time like this. "Guess we're doing things the old-fashioned way, then. Good thing I'm used to that." She couldn't resist a smirk. _Story of my life._

Kal-El caught that, in spite of things, and cut her a look before turning to Jason. "Keep your ears open. Whatever we can't see, we might be able to hear with enough time to prepare for it."

Nodding, Jason strained his hearing to the limit, but all he could catch was three heartbeats – his and his parents'. "Clear," Kal-El murmured in confirmation, and they headed down the long hallway, trying to walk softly. Kal-El went first, alert to any threat. Lois followed, her gun out and pointed safely upward. Jason brought up the rear, watching their backs. All three were on a hair-trigger, expecting violence at any second.

They were met instead by nothing. Not even the faintest echo of a footstep other than their own. The entire facility seemed deserted. There were rooms off the hallway, but after opening each door they found just empty offices. Lois perused some of the papers lying about, but nothing looked particularly interesting. Some bills of lading for various shipments, the contents of which weren't specified, were the only items that could have been considered clues.

Oddly, there were no computers of any sort in any of the rooms. When they found a manual typewriter in one office, Lois snorted. "It's been a long time since I've seen one of those. Guess he hasn't figured out a way to cut down on the interference. The EMPs sure do play hell on any kind of electronics. And I'm sure the crystal would kick up one hell of a fuss if he tried to force the information, which we know he has." She smiled grimly then, Lex's main commercial use of the technology coming to mind. "The KAL chip, anyone?"

There was no missing the way Kal-El's countenance darkened at that. "He called it that just to aggravate me. I know he did. The thieving slimy smug sonofa…" He could feel Lois' eyes on him and let his voice trail off rather than finish the thought. Jason, whose nerves were strung tighter than the wires of his piano, just scoffed under his breath.

That severe look never leaving her face, Lois shook her head. She'd be chasing the ghost of the past just a little bit longer, it seemed, with or without his forgiveness. "He's not worth it. And it wasn't just you he baited with it. He knew just how guilty I'd feel. He knew I'd rise to the bait eventually, if only to get the damned Sword of Damocles out from over my head."

"At least _that's_ over with," Kal-El said with clear finality that was a balm to Lois' still-injured pride. He moved onward then, and soon they reached the end of the hallway. It terminated in a locked door, behind which even Lois could hear the sounds of machinery. Kal-El pressed his ear against the door, listening intently, then withdrew with an exasperated sigh. "It sounds like air-handling equipment, maybe, and some other large motor. The interference is making it hard to get a fix on any subtle noises."

Having his powers lessened clearly annoyed him, but they had expected Luthor to have measures in place to defeat them. That was the problem with your enemy knowing your strengths and weaknesses. Regardless, having Lois and Jason here was hopefully enough of a wild card to work around Luthor's defenses.

Lois came to the front to kneel by the door, maneuvering the locking mechanism with the picks until it gave. Opening it very slowly, she peered into the room before glancing back to the other two. "Not bad, Kal-El. It's what you think it is." She stood aside to let him go first.

All three looked into the room. From the high ceiling above and plain concrete block wall to their right, this space had originally been something like a warehouse. Now it was packed so full of crates that only a narrow aisle was left in which to maneuver. Lois felt a shiver of déjà vu; this was too much like the warehouse in which she'd fought with Mercy. Only this one was much larger, and there was less space between the crates and boxes stacked all the way to the ceiling.

Worse, the aisle made a sharp turn at what had to be the opposite wall of the building. Halfway between there and where they stood was another aisle perpendicular to this one. That made two avenues they would have to explore.

Jason scowled and announced, "Whatever's in those crates, I can't see through it. Those ones on the end there, they're actually made of metal. The wood ones up here have a bunch of metal things in them."

Kal-El looked, too. "Interlocking fittings of some kind. And it's a lead alloy. Wonderful. Whatever's down here, he really doesn't want me to see it."

"Which is good news, right? It means we're on the right track?" The boy looked to his father hopefully.

Lois cut her husband a significant look, the angle of her brows and set of her mouth broadcasting, 'well, _shit_,' as clearly as if she'd spoken. Her hazel eyes blazed with equal parts irritation and trepidation. He interpreted her expression correctly, his own mouth down-turned. "The bad news is, we've got two aisles. If we choose the wrong one, he could get behind us or even escape. Come on."

Leading them to the first turn, Kal-El listened intently before peering around the edge. He levitated nearly to the ceiling to do so, in case someone was waiting for him to peak around at head-height. But there was nothing to be seen. The aisle ended in another turn. Quickly, Kal-El motioned them to hurry past, and left Jason and Lois guarding that aisle while he checked the other.

He returned to them in seconds. "They both end in turns, and I can't see through the walls. All of the crates are either lead-lined, made of lead alloy, or filled with objects made of lead. He's got this covered."

The three of them glanced from one aisle to the other, knowing the choice had to be made. There was no way to decide which one to choose, though. The sound of the machinery echoed off the bare walls and down the corridors made of metal crates, turning the place into the auditory equivalent of a mirror maze.

In the end, the entire set-up of the room left them with no choice. Knowing that, Kal-El made one of the toughest decisions of his life. "It's obvious. We have to split up."

Jason was the first to speak as Lois stared at him, frowning. "Dad, no. We have to stick together."

"We can't risk picking the wrong aisle. Luthor knows the layout, we don't. That makes it all too easy for him to circle around us. Or he could get out, taking Kala with him. We can't let that happen. The only option left is to split up." Ten years ago, Lois had made the choice no one else could, and now that duty fell to her husband. He looked steadily at both of them, stony-eyed and implacable. If he let the slightest hint of his fear show, neither of them would agree to the plan. Especially since he meant to send them off together and explore the farther passage on his own.

Lois was already shaking her, dark curls flying. "No. I don't like it, not in this close of quarters. Not with your vision and hearing mostly on the blitz. This is a bad idea, Kal-El." Unconsciously, her hand rose to the locket around her neck, rubbing the topaz worriedly.

He overrode her, inexorably patient. "You two take the nearer corridor. You'll be safer together. I'll take the far one. It's the only logical choice."

"Screw logic," Jason snapped. "How about we knock down a few of these walls so we can actually _see_ around here?"

"Look up. Do you see what's _not_ there?" When Jason scowled at his father's question, Kal-El explained. "The roof structure looks normal for a building this size. But that doesn't account for the weight of the lead shielding it. The cross-braces I see aren't adequate to bear the load. If we move too many of the crates, or the wrong ones, we could bring the whole roof down on our heads."

Stymied, Jason turned a look of mute pleading on his mother. Surely if anyone could talk Kal-El out of this, it was her. And Lois was decidedly unhappy about it. "So we have no choice, huh? He knows the two of you could do it and probably survive, but the debris would crush me," she muttered bitterly, tightening her jaw. "That sonofabitch. He's going to split us up whether we like it or not." She took a deep breath then, bracing herself. "There's no other way around it? You're sure? Because I don't like this."

He only nodded, feeling certainty like an iron weight in his heart. With a troubled expression, she finally acquiesced. "All right. God, it's déjà vu all over again. But you be careful, Kal-El. I don't want another replay of last time." Her voice had begun soft and hesitant, but turned fierce again at the end.

"I will." Kal-El spoke the words in spite of the growing chill in his soul. Then he turned his attention to Jason. "Your mother has more experience with this sort of thing than you do, so listen to her, and watch her back."

Jason's hatred of this idea could not be adequately expressed in words, but he seemed to be outvoted. All he could manage to say was, "Yes, sir." Kal-El turned and walked away, and Jason swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched him go.

Trying to quell the loop this had thrown her for, Lois watched his back for a minute before catching Jason's sleeve. "C'mon," Lois murmured gently. "Besides, I plan to give your Dad about ten minutes to investigate his side and if he doesn't come back, we're going after him. Luthor does have kryptonite around here, I'm sure, and I'm not willing to lose either of you. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. All four of us."

Jason heartily agreed to that. He followed close behind her as they continued down the aisle, straining his vision and hearing to the limit. All he got for his efforts was a headache.

Soon they came to another branching, with turns in both corridors. Lois eyed both paths, then turned to Jason. Before she could speak, he muttered, "No way, Mom. _You_ stay right here, _I'll_ check out both options and see what's around the bend."

That earned him a black look, the reporter glaring at him. "You're expecting me to let my son walk straight into what could be a trap? When I'm the one holding a gun? Uh-huh, nope. I didn't bring you down here so you could get ambushed. I'll go." She was already shouldering him aside when he caught her arm.

"Mom? You don't have any invulnerability. At least I have a little of it." Jason's earnest expression pleaded with her. "I won't be out of your sight. And if there's someone around the corner, I've got enough powers to deal with them – assuming I don't hear them before I see them."

It was a situation she had never wanted to be in: either she allowed Jason to do this, let him go ahead into almost certain danger with his powers to protect him. Or take the second tunnel and have him distracted by worry for her. There had to be a third option. He was right, truth be told, but she couldn't let him do it. This was worse than any blackmail Luthor had ever had on her and she had no doubt that he's known they would be forced to make these decisions when he designed it. The heartless bastard. "No, sweetheart, I can't let you…"

Jason was torn. He had been a mostly obedient child all of his life, but he could not hang back and let his mother walk into danger. Neither option would let his heart rest easy. When in doubt, Jason could only choose the path that kept his mother safe, no matter how wrong it felt to disobey her. "Mom, stay here," he said, and the words had barely left his mouth before he dashed to the corner of the first passageway.

His heart was hammering in his ears, but he could still hear Lois' shocked gasp. And he could also hear nothing but echoes around the corner. Jason peeked out carefully, wishing he had more of his father's speed. He was quicker than any human, but Dad could have done this and been back before Lois' mouth began to frame the first startled exclamation.

Nothing around this corner; it dead-ended into the exterior wall of the building. Jason wasted no more time on it, racing back past Lois and to the end of the other turnoff. Again, he peered around the corner, making sure to keep his body hidden behind the stacks of crates. That corridor continued to yet another turn, and the sound of machinery was louder, but it was just as deserted.

Jason was back at Lois side in a handful of heartbeats, reporting his findings. "The first one's a dead end, the second continues. Both are deserted. Let's go."

Before he could even take a step further, Mom had the front of his shirt and had pulled him down to her level. Her breath was coming quick and fast, hazel eyes wide when she hissed in frightened anger, her voice breaking. "Don't you _**ever**_ do that again! Don't you dare just speed off face-first into whatever could be lying in wait for you, especially not when I'm in mid-sentence! Jason, I'm your _mother_! _I'm_ supposed to be protecting _you_! That's _my_ job! I did a bad enough job with Kala and now I'm paying for it. I'm not letting him get _you_, too!"

Jason caught her hands, his blue eyes full of compassion. But there was a hint of something else there, a sternness she'd never seen in him before. "Mom. We have to protect each other. Because you _are_ my mother and I'm not going to let Luthor corner you again. So I'll look after you, and you'll look after me, and we both do a pretty darn good job of it." He paused, and smiled sadly. "Kala's not your fault. You know that, right? It's not your fault or hers that Luthor has her. Blame the person who deserves it. He's the one who started all of this."

In that moment, Lois could only stare up at him with swell of affection only a mother could know. She'd never known a moment when she was more proud of him, even if she could just shake him for scaring her. Looking back at her was the man – the hero – she had always known that he'd eventually become. And seeing that made her heart ache for her daughter all the more.

But now wasn't the time for a panic-attack. The General's Daughter didn't break down on the battlefield. Kala was somewhere in this facility and they had to get her out. Despite her anxiety, maybe Jason was right; they needed to work together. Her hands slowly released his shirt, Lois heaving a heavy sigh. "Jason, it really is at least somewhat my fault; neither of us can change the reality of that. But you're right. We should be working together. Besides, we have to track your dad down before long." Drawing away and getting herself under control, she jerked her head the why he had returned. "Let's go."

Jason fell in behind her, alert to any slightest sound of a threat. Once more, they came to a fork in the path. This time when Jason moved to look before her, Lois bit her lip against a protest and only whispered to him to crouch down. He saw the sense in that; anyone looking for them would expect someone to peer around at head height, and might miss movement closer to the ground. With his powers and her wisdom, they made a good team.

The sound of machinery was getting louder the further they went. Jason figured they were roughly in the center of the building. Around one more corner, the space suddenly opened up. Jason peeked to make sure it was safe, and saw nothing but a series of air-handling machines with ducts leading to vents in the floor. "You were right," he murmured. "Everything's underground. This is where they're pumping air down to whatever's under the floor." He remembered noticing vents along the roofline of the building, but had thought nothing of it at the time.

Lois only nodded. They moved cautiously into the space, wary of any potential trap. "We need to get down there," the reporter muttered. "All of this is just stage-dressing. Wherever he has Kala, it's down there somewhere." She and Jason looked for an access panel, but couldn't find any such thing. It seemed that the only way to get down from here was through the vents themselves, and the openings were far too narrow for a person to pass through.

Glancing at her watch, Lois was surprised to realize they had only used up a few minutes of the time she'd allowed them before they went in search of Kal-El. She knew that the wisest course was to return to him and see if the route he'd chosen through this maze led to a better access point. But a part of her would not let her turn back. Kala could be only a few feet away at this point. What if Luthor was holding her right there, beneath the air ducts, and all of his attention was focused on Kal-El? She and Jason could spirit Kala out before anyone even knew they were here…

Lois lost all chance of squashing that wild hope when Jason knelt beside one of the vents and looked at it thoughtfully. "Mom, I bet I could widen this with heat-vision. We could pull the duct aside and slip in the air shaft. The space below is big enough for you to stand, even though I'm gonna have to duck."

She couldn't turn away. Part of her hated leaving Kal-El alone to face whatever waited down his path. The rest of her, however, couldn't resist the possibility of getting this over with. They _had_ to find Kala. There was no time to waste. Lois hadn't forgotten Mercy's snide comments about Stockholm Syndrome, and knew that they had to get to Kala before she broke under the mental strain of captivity.

"Do it," Lois told her son, and stood nearby, gun at the ready in case they were discovered. He wasted no time, pulling the duct out and catching hold of the edge of the floor. His heat vision sizzled through concrete, with an occasional pause to cut the rebar that supported the structure. Lois saw that they would be through the widened hole in seconds, and took a deep breath, hoping Kal-El was okay. She'd had a bad feeling about this from the moment they started discussing it.

…

Kal-El found himself having to stop and figure out where he was in relation to the overall layout of the building. The twists and turns of the corridors had been designed to confuse anyone who came here by accident. At least he could keep track of Lois and Jason's heartbeats. The familiar rhythms were hard to catch in the cacophony of overlapping machinery noises, but he knew them so well he could still lock on to them – just barely.

He eventually came to a wider area somewhere in the back of the building. A large freight elevator, just a hydraulic platform with a single guard rail, stood in the middle of the floor. So there _was_ something beneath this level. Kal-El peered downward, but his vision was oddly grainy. Furrowing his brow, he rested his eyes by looking around the space.

Ah, that explained things. Sitting on the elevator platform was a bucket of paint. It looked ancient, the metal lid rusting and the label faded. When Kal-El focused on it, the contents were semi-opaque. Trust Luthor to have found a source of leaded paint – the stuff had been outlawed in the U.S. for years due to the danger of children ingesting it. It had just enough lead to slightly cloud Kal-El's vision. The ceiling of the level below was probably painted.

But Luthor had made a single mistake, and Kal-El grinned fiercely. The upper surface was bare concrete, and the elevator was bare metal. X-Ray vision worked just fine on it, giving him a window into the room below. Kal-El circled the elevator, not wanting to step on it until he'd made sure it wasn't booby-trapped.

It seemed to lead to another stockroom, this one filled with more ordinary supplies. Kal-El remembered the strange thefts of medical equipment years ago when his gaze lit on some of the crates down there. Entire cases of laboratory glassware, protective goggles and clothing, Bunsen burners, and various chemicals lined the walls. Kal-El wouldn't let himself wonder exactly why Luthor needed those items, not when his daughter was captive somewhere below.

What seemed stranger was the amount of salt. There were huge boxes labeled NaCl, which was ordinary table salt. Why on earth would Luthor need great quantities of salt? Kal-El could imagine no use for it.

He shrugged it off. The room below wasn't wired for traps, but he had no intention of using the lift anyway. He didn't want to announce his presence. Instead, he used another trick, and spun in place. The friction of his boots, which were protected by his invulnerability, wore away the concrete. Soon he standing in a drift of pale dust, looking around the room below.

A long hall led off in two directions, which weren't marked. Kal-El chose the right, sidling quietly along with his ears straining in two directions. He was seeking both information about his surroundings and trying to keep tabs on Lois and Jason. Unfortunately, the huge motor that powered the lift was in this room, and its idle cycle sounded much like a great heart throbbing right beside him. Kal-El was almost deafened by it, and increased his pace to get some distance from the sound that echoed fiercely off the concrete walls.

Once he was gone, Zod rose from behind the massive piece of machinery, and set off down the other hall to intercept his target at the intersection of the two paths.

…

Lois hated the air ducts. She and Jason were in the center hub of a network of radiating ducts, and the force of the air blowing down them wrecked both her hair and her nerves. _It could be worse,_ she told herself firmly. At least she could stand and walk easily. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to do this in the kind of narrow metal ventilation ducts common in buildings. The reporter had crawled through them a time or two while chasing a story, but it wasn't her idea of fun.

Jason stood beside her, looking worriedly around the area. He had set down the piece of concrete his heat vision had carved out from around the duct, placing it where it would make a good step for Lois to get back out quickly. But now he was somewhat at a loss. They had six passageways to choose from, leading in all different directions. The air handling machinery was so loud that he couldn't even listen for potential leads at the entrance of each path.

The reporter swore under her breath. Lois saw how this had to work, but she didn't have to like it. All of the tunnels were slightly curved, so the noise might fade out a little around the bend. One of them would have to go down each shaft and listen for any hint of where the tunnel might lead. The other would have to guard this central hub so no one could creep up on them. And Lois knew Jason's hearing was better than hers, just as her fast reflexes and loaded gun were better suited to guard duty.

But she hated it, every maternal instinct in her body screaming _No!_ Still, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to speak calmly. "Jason, you'll have to go a little ways down each of these. Just far enough so the machinery isn't blocking your hearing. Listen, then come back and tell me what you heard before going to the next. It's the only way we can figure out which one to follow."

The thought of giving up and going back to Dad didn't even occur to Jason. He could feel Kala's presence somewhere. She was further away than he'd hoped, but she was much closer than she had been for days, and his heart hammered. He nodded to Lois and headed down the first tunnel.

He had to go quite a ways before the roar of the air handlers faded enough, and then he heard nothing of interest. Jason had hoped for a snippet of conversation, something to indicate where people were, but so far this place seemed deserted. If not for that strange sense of empathy between himself and Kala, he would have given up. But he _knew_ she was here, and he came out of the first tunnel to plunge directly into the second. That one ran much straighter, and he had to go even further before he could get a clear reading of the sounds. It too was disappointingly quiet.

When he came out of that one, Jason saw that Mom had wisely positioned herself with her back to the first, empty tunnel. He had never been more glad of her vast experience and sharp mind. She thought of everything. "Love you, Mom," he said with a grin, and ducked down the third passageway. He was no longer surprised to find it blank as well. Perhaps only one of the air shafts was useful.

Jason popped out of the third tunnel and Lois winked at him bravely. "Love you too," she called, her keen gaze never leaving the unexplored areas as he dove down the fourth passage. This was another long one, and he was quite some distance from the center when he heard the first faint sound of a voice.

He froze, the hair on the nape of his neck standing up. It wasn't clear at all, but he knew that tone. It was Kala's voice, raised in anger, and it electrified him. "Mom, she's here!" he called back down the tunnel to Lois, and took off in the direction of his twin's voice.

Lois, meanwhile, heard something behind her. Jason had already checked that tunnel, and she whirled, her gun aimed and her heart pounding. She heard Jason shout, but couldn't make out the words because of the echoes.

Before she could turn and run to him she heard another voice, much closer. Lois' heart turned to ice. She had been listening to that voice for sixteen years, from the first colicky cries to the sarcastic remarks of Kala's adolescence. It didn't matter that she couldn't understand the words. That was her baby, her finicky, frustrating, forever-beloved little girl, and Lois ran, calling over her shoulder, "Jason, come on!"

Not waiting for him to catch up, Lois pursued the echo of her daughter's voice down the tunnel. At one point it began to slope downwards, and Lois scrambled to keep from falling. She ended up at a t-junction, holding her breath to hear better.

_There_. To her left, Kala called out for her mother, fear and pain mingled in her voice. The ice melted, Lois' heart burning like a miniature sun in her chest. She'd come to Nevada knowing she would have to kill Luthor to end this. Hearing Kala cry out just made it easier to do. _You'll never hurt her again_, she thought furiously, and ran headlong toward the sound.

At the next turn Lois checked herself more out of habit than anything else. She was too well-trained, by her father and Maggie, to simply burst around a corner while in enemy territory. She paused to listen, heard Kala whimper, and flung herself around the corner with the gun in front of her.

Her instant of hesitation saved her. She didn't even know she was under fire until she saw concrete chips fly up from the wall in front of her. Lois' finger was already inside the trigger guard when she saw that, and her sharp eyes flew toward movement up the hall. Even with adrenaline roaring through her veins, Lois recognized Luthor's bald head, and she fired while she was still in motion.

Luthor ducked around a corner, and Lois hurriedly flung herself behind the only cover available: the same corner she'd just darted out from. Her hands were shaking, her mind racing; she was so close, Kala was right nearby, and here was her chance to end this nightmare forever. She slid down the wall and peered around.

Her own Ladysmith, the one Luthor had stolen from her aboard the yacht ten years ago, was aimed at her. The first bullet had missed her by only inches, but Luthor wasn't a practiced shooter, and his next shot was off by a foot or more. That heartened Lois, and she snapped off two return shots that drove him back behind his own corner. The first was wide, but at the second one Lois saw paint chips fly up right where Luthor's head had been a moment ago.

Her head rang with gunfire and the echoes thereof. Lois pressed herself against the wall, forcing herself to breathe slowly and quietly. Right now they were in deadlock, both of them sticking to cover. Someone had to break it, and Lois waited for Luthor to make the first move. The scene around the corner was fixed in her mind, and her entire being was focused on swinging around to bring her gun to bear on Luthor's chest. She only had to wait for his impatience to force him to break cover. He didn't have her training, he wouldn't be able to wait.

Lois heard a shoe scuff, and launched herself. In a single smooth motion she whipped around the corner, gun at the ready, finger already squeezing the trigger. But the corridor was empty except for a single shoe lying a few feet out from the wall.

_Oh, fuck!_ She saw the trap and skidded, diving back under cover. But something caught her shoulder and spun her in midair. Lois slammed against the wall behind her, the gun clattering from her numb hand. Her whole arm was hot and distant.

That didn't matter, she had to get up, had to move, get out of the line of fire before he managed to hit her. Only when she tried to use her right hand to rise did the pain come, blooming like fire in her should. Lois cried out and fell, realizing the sleeve of her dark blue shirt had gone black. _I'm hit_, she thought dazedly, still trying to struggle back to her feet.

A sudden impact to her midsection flung her against the wall again, and Lois pressed her hand against her stomach. Hot blood spilled over her fingers as she stared down at herself. Her mind had vapor-locked. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to be. Luthor was the one who would die here, not her.

A shadow fell over her, and Lois looked up dazedly. Luthor stood there, a hard, triumphant smile on his face. "Hello, Lois," he said, his voice rough. That jump-started her brain, and Lois tried to reach for her gun with her left hand. He had kicked it away, though, and blood loss was already making her too weak to do anything more than stare up at him in disbelief. It couldn't end like this…

He bent down, grabbed the locket from around her neck, and yanked it off. The sting as the chain snapped barely registered to Lois. "I think I'll keep this," he mused, his greedy eyes drinking in every drop of her pain and helplessness.

_I'm not gonna die here, at your hands,_ Lois thought rebelliously, while a part of her knew better. And she knew that if she died – she would never reconcile with Kala, never see her sweet boy again, never get to enjoy her reunion with Kal-El – but they would never stop hunting Luthor. She could only pray as she'd never prayed in all her life, that her death wouldn't drive them both to recklessness.

This close to the edge, Lois didn't feel fear, only hatred. All the defiant words she couldn't speak were expressed by the fury of her stare. She would not grovel before Luthor, not even as the barrel of her own gun filled her vision.


	46. Act V: Targets: Slipping Beyond the Pale

**Not even sure I can say anything here at all without spoiling whole swathes of future events. Place no bets on anything. And, as much as it hurts me to say so, I think we proved that last chapter. If things can happen to her, even with me on watch, anything is possible.**

* * *

Giselle fretted in her cell. She hated captivity; a large part of the reason she'd chosen the life of a con artist was that it allowed her to be constantly on the move. She could stay in a city for a few weeks or a few months, until it bored her, then cash in her chips, sever her ties, and be gone.

Not now. She was in a cell by herself, a cramped accommodation of black bars and concrete walls, feeling like a zoo animal on display. The cops and other prisoners eyed her disparagingly when they went by, or else ignored her so thoroughly it made her want to do something reckless. Giselle did not like to be an object of pitying disdain, but even less she liked being forgotten and dismissed.

This morning was a case in point. She had been on her way to the showers. The fact that she had been here long enough to need a shower was galling in itself – Sawyer was holding her here in the city lockup deliberately. She couldn't go on to actual prison, where she might be able to make the kind of contacts necessary to escape, and she couldn't make bail because she was a flight risk. So she was stalled in city jail, watching as dozens of other people were brought in and out within hours, while she just moldered in her cell.

And to make it worse, this morning as the bored cop had led her to showers, Giselle had walked a little too close to the wall of cells on her left. Another prisoner reached out and grabbed at her, the other woman's nails scoring her arm. She'd even drawn blood! But other than a quick trip to the infirmary to have the scrape cleaned and antibiotic ointment applied, no one had paid any attention. Not even when Giselle complained that the wound stung. The cops sneered at her for whining over such a little thing.

It did sting, though. And her whole arm was starting to itch. Worse, she felt light-headed and dizzy. Giselle paced the tiny cell, rubbing absently at her arm.

Some distance away, her attacker lounged in a solitary cell. Amira Darden had had to wait much longer than she'd expected to get a chance at the girl. The cops were being very careful; if they had placed her in the general population, all of this could have been over the same night she was arrested. But no, she was kept apart from everyone, so this farce had to drag on until a lucky chance presented itself.

And it _was_ a lucky chance, just not for Giselle. The woman in solitary smiled grimly. Their jailers wouldn't realize that she hadn't scratched the girl with her nails. Instead, Amira had used a needle she'd kept hidden since she was arrested. Her very arrest was a sham, stalling too long with the convenience store clerk at gunpoint waiting for the time delay safe to open. It was such a stupid crime for a sober person with no violent offenses to commit, the cops might've been suspicious. But then, who wanted to get _into_ jail?

Who, indeed, but an employee of Luthor's sent to dispatch Giselle. Amira grinned foxily. Now that she'd managed to send a coded message to her handler stating the deed was done, her bail would be posted tonight. She'd be out of jail before Giselle began to show the more obvious symptoms of the poison on the needle. It was an exotic concoction: the venom of some sea creature mixed with the oil pressed from a rare seed, among other ingredients, one of which was an antidote to the deadliest of the others. That would retard the effects for a while, long enough for Amira to get out. But the antidote was metabolized much more quickly than the poisons, and then the girl's mild symptoms would suddenly worsen.

By nightfall, Amira would be headed back to Mercy for further orders, and Giselle would be dead by no means the medical examiner could trace. Such were the rewards and penalties Luthor meted out to those in his employ.

…

Jason was running toward the sound of his twin's voice, but it didn't feel like he was getting any closer to her. The same sense that had warned him she was in danger when she ran away _should_ have let him know he was close to his goal, but it felt like she was the same distance as when he'd started running. So he redoubled his efforts, opening up another notch of speed he hadn't even known he possessed.

Haste saved him. When Jason turned a corner without even bothering to slow down, he cannoned into the woman waiting there and knocked both of them to the ground. The gun that had been in her hands went spinning across the concrete. Jason saw it, and adrenaline surged in his veins at the realization that he was now embroiled in a fight for his life. And Kala wasn't even here; he had been tricked. He rolled to his feet, tracking the woman, alert to any sound of reinforcements arrived. His mind tried to focus on a thousand things at once.

And then he saw her face as she gracefully regained her footing, and everything seemed to freeze. It was one thing to know; it was quite another thing to come face-to-face with it. "Mrs. Davenport?"

"Mercy Graves, actually." The woman he had known as his girlfriend's mother then gave him a cool smile before taking advantage of his distraction to launch a flying kick that caught him squarely in the chest. Jason landed on his rump, already berating himself for his stupidity. They _knew_ Justine Davenport was really Mercedes Graves. He knew she was in the area, too, since Mom had met with her yesterday. But seeing her still startled him.

Fortunately for Jason, he'd spent his childhood rough-housing with a ruthless and conniving opponent. He had learned all of Kala's tricks and had no compunctions about using them now. When Mercy tried to skirt around him to get to her gun, he sprawled out on the concrete to grab her ankle and yank her to the ground again.

They both got up at the same time, neither of them any nearer to the gun. Mercy stepped back warily, and Jason eyed her. The evidence of her fight with Lois was plain to see in the scrapes on her hands and the bruises on her face. Still, she didn't move like she was in pain. More like the karate instructor he'd gone to for a while.

She had training. He had superpowers, but he couldn't use most of them. His heart quailed at the thought of killing someone. Even Brutus' death had provoked nightmares, once Jason understood what he'd done. To kill a human being was anathema to everything he'd been taught, even if that person had been trying to kill him a moment ago.

Her eyes flicked to the gun, and Jason took a sliding half-step nearer to it. "Mom really kicked your butt, didn't she?" he said in admiring tones, trying to get her attention back on him.

To his surprise, Mercy grinned. "You're as blind as ever, Jason. I let your mother win that fight." As she spoke, Jason dove for the gun with every ounce of super-speed he possessed. He snatched it up before she could even begin to move after it, and Mercy had only taken a single step when Jason held the weapon up before her eyes … and crushed it to a useless hunk of steel and plastic in his bare hand.

Letting the fragments drop, Jason grinned right back. Now they were on better footing – she couldn't really hurt him unless she had a second weapon, and he would try not to hurt her. Except with words. He let out a skeptical chuckle. "You _let _Mom win? Yeah, right. Sure you did."

She didn't look too dismayed at that. "Of course," she replied silkily. "Luthor wants to kill your mother himself."

The emotionless way she said it chilled Jason's blood, and he took a single step forward, a truculent look in his eyes. The only thing that could override his essentially pacifist nature was a direct threat to his sister or his mother. And this most certainly counted. Before he could reply, however, he heard gunshots echoing off the concrete.

His heart plummeted. If he had been tricked, then Lois could have been too. She hadn't arrived here yet, so she must have been following another false lead. _Kala was crying, yelling for us. And she had to have heard it._ Just like him, she had been led into a trap. Mercy's casual declaration rang through his mind. _Luthor wants to kill your mother __**himself**__._

Jason had no more time to waste with Mercy, and raced off toward the sound of those gunshots, praying that what he heard was Lois shooting Luthor. He wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the possibility of any other scenario.

…

Kal-El explored cautiously. He found himself in a series of rooms full of crates like those above, and the slightest sound echoed off the metal. That was aggravating enough, but some of the corridors here were so narrow he had to turn sideways to pass through them.

It was during one of those awkward passes, his hearing strained to its limit and still catching the steady thump of the motor in the previous room, that he heard a peculiar squealing rumble. When Kal-El looked around to try and orient on the sound, he saw the entire stack of crates wobble…

…and then crash down atop him. It couldn't _hurt_ him, of course, but it was startling. And when he tried to disentangle himself, he somehow brought down even more of the crates, a few of which began to break open against his invulnerable body.

The contents of the crates were weirdly varied. Glassware shattered around Kal-El, mingling with ingots of lead. There were various types of hardware – nuts, bolts, screws, washers, hinges, a slew of other such objects.

It made no sense at all. What on earth was Luthor doing with this incredible variety of materials? Or was it all a smokescreen for his true plan? Frustrated, Kal-El thrust the boxes aside and strove for the top of the mound he was currently buried in.

As he shifted the last box aside, he caught a glimpse of movement across the room. Kal-El whipped around, but whatever had moved was gone. He focused his hearing and heard a faint echo of the machinery in the other room – no, this was closer, and though it beat in the same time, he could distinguish it. A heartbeat, someone who had intentionally knocked over the storage crates.

Intent, Kal-El scrambled after that flicker of movement. He soon found himself in a twisting tunnel, dark and close. It ended in a locked lead-lined door. Well, he had no intention of letting that stop him, so he kicked the door in. He wanted some answers, _now_, so he could find his daughter, regroup with his wife and son, and get out of here. Throwing Luthor back in prison could wait.

The room beyond was just as dark but more open, and Kal-El heard another door close on the other side. There were several doors, and he paused, trying to figure out which one the object of his pursuit had disappeared behind. It was then that he heard Kala's voice, faintly, and he spun around.

He wasn't deceived as Lois and Jason had been. Kala's familiar heartbeat wasn't audible, but a very faint hissing sound was. That was only a recording, and he tried to block it out as he scanned the other side of the various doors with his x-ray vision. Strangely, he could see through all of them, but the person who'd run from him simply wasn't there. Kal-El strained his hearing for a hint of running footsteps, glad that collapsed crates insulated him from the machinery in the other room.

Instead, he heard gunshots, and his stomach dropped. _Lois. Oh, no._ Orienting on the sound, Kal-El raced toward it, taking whatever path or tunnel seemed to lead in that direction.

…

The locket dangled from his fist as terrible, triumphant joy swelled up in Luthor's chest, threatening to crush every other emotion and thought. At last, _at last_, he'd won. Here and now, he was about to administer the _coup de grace_. Killing Lois Lane was the cruelest blow he could strike to his nemesis; Kal-El was besotted with his wife, and the loss of her would surely unbalance him. After that, it would be almost merciful to slay the alien and his offspring. What were they all without their touchstone to this planet and its people? Why, he would be doing humanity a favor – without Lois to infect them with human weakness and sentimentality, the family would turn out much more like Zod and his followers.

Speaking of Zod, that menace needed dealing with as well, but not while he was being useful. In the meantime, Luthor gloated, savoring the metallic smell of Lois' blood and the fury in her eyes as she realized she could do _nothing_ to stop him. She had sneered at him through prison bars after his first arrest, and her articles made him seem like an incompetent buffoon. Luthor loathed her for that. No one dared to mock him, and worse yet, she had insulted his intelligence. That was an affront he could not allow to stand.

Furthermore, in his clashes with Lois and the alien, Luthor had discovered an intense attraction for Lois. At heart, she was just as ruthless as he was, but she chose to temper that with self-inflicted weaknesses like morality and ethics. And she had a certain type of cunning that sometimes came close to his own intellect. It helped that Lois hated him virulently, and he'd always found that fascinating in a woman.

Thus, this moment. With a single shot he could visit ruination upon the alien, achieve revenge upon Lois herself, and obliterate the face that sometimes haunted his dreams. Smiling, he tightened his finger on the trigger, capturing in his memory the look of terror upon her face…

…only it wasn't fear he saw. The defeat, the ultimate capitulation, simply wasn't there. Lois glared at him with savage defiance in her eyes, her expression leaving no doubt that if she'd had the strength to rise, she would have attacked him with bare hands and teeth. No surrender.

That made him hesitate in frustrated fury. How dare she? Didn't she realize her own death was staring her in the face? Didn't she know that with this shot, both her children and her husband were also doomed? Demoralized and in shock, it would be all too easy to pick off Kal-El and Jason, and he already had what he needed from Kala.

Never mind. Let her die thinking her defiance meant something. The gun had dropped slightly with Luthor's surprise, and he lifted it again. Time to end this.

"_**MOM!**_" The terrified shout startled Luthor, and he spun around to see the boy racing toward them. He was a mere blur in the airshaft at the speed he was moving, and Luthor knew his danger. At six, this boy had killed one of his henchmen. What could he do now at sixteen? Luthor fired wildly at him, one shot before the gun clicked empty.

The boy stumbled, and Lois found her voice to shriek "_**NO!**_" Even as that happened, Luthor was moving, running for his life. Lane was dead anyway. The boy, perhaps not. And Kal-El was around somewhere, being entertained by Zod. It was time to get out of here. Their second line of defense was ready.

…

Jason ignored the fleeing villain as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to his mother. He was terribly close to panic; the front of Lois' shirt was soaked in blood, and he could see more smeared against the wall behind her. All of those gory horror movies he'd watched suddenly weren't so laughable – this wasn't corn syrup and food dye, this was his mother's blood. Not even seeing Kristin the other day could quite compare. It had been the assassin's blood then, and already dry, but this was wet and fresh and lent a peculiar copper tang to the air.

_Real_. "Mom?" he asked tremulously as he knelt beside her. Sitting here, overwhelmed, Jason heard her words from this morning echo back with chilling déjà vu. _I don't know why, but I get the feeling he __**has**__ to be with us. I was going to be the first to tell him no, but I keep getting a bad feeling about leaving him behind. I don't like it, either, but … maybe it's time. Maybe this is what he's been training for. _Somewhere in the back of her mind, his mother had to have known, and she had come, anyway.

He pummeled his brain for the memory of first-aid courses, and that calmed him a bit. Jason realized he'd have to try to stop the bleeding somehow. The shoulder wound was flowing steadily, so it was venous blood, not arterial. A hopeful sign. "Are you hit anywhere else?" he asked her, meeting her pained hazel eyes.

As soon as he knelt down to her, her working hand went to his chest over the small tear in his shirt, feeling for the wound she knew he should have. Lex had shot him as he came to her, she had seen that perfectly well, but she couldn't feel anything under the fabric, although Jason gave a little hiss of discomfort. Despite the fresh agony that came from every movement, Lois gave a small smile. The bullet had only glanced off him. The invulnerability, or some of it, had kicked in. It had been extreme stress that had fully manifested the first of his powers. And now, just when he needed it, here was another.

He was trying to hold her up, but the careful touch brought a bolt of fresh agony. Lois fought to keep her struggle internal but it was so taxing; she'd never been injured this gravely. That she could remember. The day in the desert so long ago flashed through her mind. _Don't you panic, Lane. You can't panic. God, my poor little boy; he shouldn't be seeing this. He can't know how bad this is. He'll lose his calm and God knows how much worse this could get. Just brazen it out. And stop thinking about the blood. Or the cold. Push it away before you go into complete shock.. _"It's just … another flesh wound. I'll be … okay. Sweetheart, I need you … to find your dad. He's going to need … your help."

"No, Mom, I'm staying with you," Jason insisted, his voice trembling. When she reached for him, he saw the blood pooling in a fold of her shirt, and then saw the torn fabric. He couldn't breathe, the fear paralyzing when he looked up at her with eyes too wide. That was bad, very bad. _Oh God, she shouldn't be bleeding this much from a flesh wound. What do I do? What do I __**do**__? Oh God, Mom. _ His mind was racing to try to fix this. To take it back. As gently as he could, he tried to apply pressure to the wound in her shoulder. Lois winced, but wouldn't cry out.

Instead she tried to smile, a horrible parody of her usual insouciant grin. "I'll be fine, baby. I've gotten worse from your Aunt Tobie's gossip column," Lois whispered, and Jason scowled worriedly, holding her tighter. He was on the verge of stark terror, barely holding it in. This shouldn't be happening, not to Mom. Not his mom. Not now, not when they were so close to getting Kal home. A sudden gust of air made him whirl around protectively, and Kal-El was there.

Everything stopped as those azure eyes took in the scene, Jason looking up at him pleadingly. It seemed as though he was six again, begging Daddy to make things right, hoping the nightmare would end now that he was here. But even back then he had known that Superman wasn't all-powerful, that he could be hurt, that bad things could happen and no one could make them un-happen. Heroes were the people who went on in spite of those awful occurrences, who tried to fix things no matter how terrible the odds against them were. "Dad?" Jason said, his eyes wild.

Kal-El focused on his wife, and Jason saw his face grow pale. "Get out of here, son," he said sternly. "Get to the car. I'll be there to pick you up in just a minute." With that, he gently scooped Lois up, wrapping his cape around her.

"No, take Jason…" Lois started to say, but broke off with a strangled whimper. She clutched Kal-El's neck as waves of pain crashed through her at being lifted.

"Run, Jason," Kal-El said. "She needs to go to the hospital _now_." With that, he looked up, and his heat vision seared a hole in the concrete above them. The next thing Jason knew, his mother and father were both gone, Kal-El flying at top speed.

Jason simply stood there a moment. The gunshots still seemed to be echoing in his ears; certainly nothing else was in his head but a far-off roaring sound. He looked at the place where Mom had been sitting. The wall and floor were both covered in smudges and spatters of blood. Too much blood, from such a slightly-built woman.

He pressed one hand against the opposite wall, feeling a bit faint. That roaring noise was getting closer now. Jason saw a streak of blood across his knuckles, and turned both hands palm upward. The lines in his palms were sticky with drying blood. His mother's blood.

It wasn't an echo. The roar was coming from inside him, from his ever-gentle heart. Mom was so badly hurt that Dad had to rush her to the hospital; he couldn't even wait to go through the air shafts, he had to go straight up out of the roof, melting a path with his heat-vision. That meant … that meant…

Jason couldn't let himself think it. He closed his eyes, swaying. He'd been told to run, to wait by the car like a good little boy. But all he could think about was his mother's blood growing tacky in the creases of his hands. "I'm not running away. There's been too much of that already," he whispered softly.

His sister was captive. His mother was hurt. Jason had had _enough_. "_**LUTHOR!**_" he bellowed, no, _roared_, and leapt to the pursuit of the madman with utter wrath in his eyes.

…

The flight to Las Vegas' University Medical Center took only seconds, and Kal-El flew directly into the trauma unit, landing amid the startled doctors and nurses. He locked eyes with the nearest doctor, and his voice was rough as he demanded, "Help her. She's been shot."

The man took one look at the reporter and called for a gurney. Soon Lois was lying on it, surrounded by medical staff. They seemed to be moving at Kal-El's own speed; it felt like he had only set her down a heartbeat ago, and they already had an IV line in and a pulse oximeter on her finger as they rolled her into a room. No one denied Superman access, not when he was still holding tightly to the patient's hand. A nurse called out Lois' vitals. "Pulse ox 90, BP 81 over 45, she's bradying down, Doctor."

"Get a crash cart in here. Hang normal saline and whole blood, running wide open. I want 0.5 milligrams of atropine, IV push," the doctor commanded as he examined her. "We're gonna need a CT to determine the extent of the injuries." He pressed against Lois' belly gently, and found it stiff and swollen, the dark-haired woman giving the softest whimper. Her eyes showed what her face would not: the enormity of the pain she was holding back. The doctor looked up at Kal-El, his own compassionate but very serious. "We've got to get her into surgery, fast. She's bleeding internally."

The phrase _internal bleeding_ froze her. She had guessed as much; the confirmation just made it all the more real. There might not be much time and she couldn't waste the time fretting. The implications were terrifying and everything was going too fast and everything hurt, but now wasn't the time for it. Tears tried to well up in her eyes, but she couldn't let them. He had to go. Luthor was still out there and he had an even better shot at the rest of her family than ever. The longer Kal-El stayed, the greater the possibility of Jason's life being forfeit. Fear overwhelming her over that thought, Lois tightened her grip on his hand. Her eyes locked on his, blazing with the enormous effort of will this was costing her. "I'll be here when you get back. It's not as bad as it seems," she managed to say, her voice a weak and whispery stranger's even to her own ears. "I need you to go get my twins. They need you. I'll be fine."

For a moment, his throat froze up. Her face was so pale. The doctor was waiting to wheel her away, the other doctors and nurses were trying their best to work on her, and he was standing rooted to the floor by the pleading in her eyes. Even now, even with such terrible injuries, even while her heart tried to slow down because there wasn't enough blood in her body for it to beat properly, Lois was thinking of _him_. Not only was she trying to reassure him, she'd also remembered not to refer to the twins as theirs. Even now, her body failing her, she was protecting the secret.

He couldn't say he loved her, not in front of witnesses. "I'll find them," he promised, with a squeeze of her fingers. Lois gave a small nod, the faintest smile. And then they were wheeling her away toward white swinging doors.

He had to get moving. But first, he took out his cell phone and sent a quick message to Richard and Lana. _Lois in Las Vegas UMC ER, shot by Luthor. I'm getting Jason._ Then he took off, back to Luthor's lab, hoping against hope that Jason had done as he'd been told.

…

Rage pulsed in Jason's veins. Everything that had gone wrong – his parents fighting, Kala being kidnapped, Lana getting hurt, and now Lois grievously wounded – was _Luthor's fault_. And there would be redress for all of it, _all_ of it, if he could only get his hands on the man.

Luthor had a few minutes' head start, and Jason wasn't quite sure which way he'd gone. But Jason had speed and righteous fury on his side. Soon he was out of the air shafts, tracking the sound of Luthor's running footsteps down yet another concrete corridor. This one was piled high with crates and boxes.

Up ahead, the floor sloped downward to a dark, cavernous opening. Another tunnel? Jason faltered for a stride. They hadn't known anything this size was down here. Then he saw Luthor dart into the darkness, and his keen vision made out the shape of Mercy Graves as well.

His foes had conveniently assembled for him. Furious, Jason redoubled his speed, racing to catch up with them. Luthor and Mercy were climbing into some kind of cart, and now Jason saw tracks set in the ground. He pushed for still more speed, coming out of the narrow corridor into the wider room before the tunnel.

Just as he cleared the threshold, he ran into something that knocked him flat on his rump. Frustrated, Jason glared up at the offending object…

…only to look into the implacable blue eyes of General Zod.

Jason knew that face; he'd seen it in photos in newspapers from before he was born, seen it projected onto the Fortress' walls as Jor-El warned him of the dangers of arrogance. He realized two things in a flash: one, that Zod had not perceptibly aged in the seventeen years since he'd come to earth, and two, that all the signs pointed to Luthor having a collaborator.

Here was his partner in villainy, then. Sworn to destroy the House of El at any cost, the deadliest foe Superman had ever faced, a man with all of Kal-El's powers and none of his compassion, none of his humanity…

_Wait,_ Jason thought as he scrambled to his feet, meeting the mocking sneer on Zod's face with a blaze of pure outrage in his own expression. _Zod lost his powers. He's no more than a mortal man, now. I can take him._ With that, Jason lunged, fist cocked to knock the other Kryptonian aside. Speed and strength in the blow, intending only to get Zod out of his way so he could pursue Luthor. His grudge against Luthor was much more recent.

His fist connected only with the palm of Zod's hand, the older man turning on one heel as he twisted Jason's wrist. The boy found himself flying across the room, thrown by a one-handed grip, and when he struck the wall he felt something crack. Concrete dust sifted down around him as he got to his feet again; it had been the wall, not his spine, that shattered.

Jason had no time to marvel at Zod's powers or his own invulnerability. He could hear a rattling, clanking sound from the tunnel; that cart was descending, taking Luthor and Mercy further away from him. And Zod was approaching warily, eyeing the boy. "You should not have meddled in the affairs of your elders," Zod said in Kryptonese.

A thousand questions raced through Jason's mind. How had Zod faked his death and regained his powers? And why was he working with Luthor again, when they'd both thoroughly betrayed each other? A part of him was starting to panic. This madman, the greatest criminal ever produced by Krypton, was facing him down with icy disdain.

Jason drew himself up to his full height, striving for his father's majestic bearing. "You should have remained in prison, General Zod, and not sought out Luthor," he replied just as coldly. "You will learn the error of your ways."

Zod laughed. "It is you who will learn, boy, and swiftly." He struck then, faster than Jason could dodge, and the boy bounced off another wall. Wincing in pain, he collected himself, pummeling his brain for a strategy that would defeat a faster, stronger, wilier opponent.

Distraction was always a good technique. "Don't fool yourself. Luthor will betray you at the first opportunity."

"And well I know it." The moment Zod began to speak, Jason leaped at him, but Zod deflected his punch and delivered one of his own that made the breath whoosh out of Jason's lungs. "In fact, I depend upon it. Which is why I cannot allow you, son of Kal-El, to spoil my plans by slaying him." Zod punctuated the words with blows, some of which Jason was able to block. He didn't see the swift cuff that made his ear ring painfully, though, and flinched back from it.

Zod caught him by the collar of the shirt and held him up, eye to eye. "Fortunately for you, boy, I cannot have your blood upon my hands either." With that, he threw Jason so hard it was immediately clear he'd been holding back earlier.

Jason crashed _through_ one of the walls he'd cracked earlier, landing on his back in a cloud of concrete dust. He coughed the stuff out of his lungs and tried to surge to his feet again, but his body rebelled. The best he could do was focus his vision through the remains of the wall in time to see Zod disappearing down the tunnel at some speed.

Why run? Jason could – and would, once he could stand – easily follow the cart tracks down the tunnel to catch up to them. As he slowly got to his feet, he heard a beeping sound from somewhere nearby.

Jason turned his head, curiosity rapidly becoming foreboding. The beeping was coming from the crates stacked in that hallway. And when he turned his vision on them, he saw that they were made of steel, a substance he couldn't see through.

…

The patient was unconscious, as much from blood loss as the anesthetic. She lay on the operating table, the harsh glare of the light making her seem that much more fragile. She was the utter stillness surrounded by a flurry of activity; no wasted motion among the doctors and nurses, just an intensity of effort that made her peril clear.

"She'll be fine with one kidney," the surgeon murmured, suturing blood vessels.

"Blood pressure's dropping again," the anesthesiologist informed them. "And her heart rate…"

The heart monitor had been beeping more and more slowly, which they had allowed as long as it continued a steady rhythm. It was better not to force her heart to speed up and pump out more blood from the damaged arteries and veins in her abdomen. But now the rhythm began to falter.

Cursing under his breath, the surgeon hurried to locate and seal the last few sources of internal bleeding. They'd already taken care of the ruined kidney and managed to stop the bleeding from the nick to her liver. Around him, other doctors worked to stabilize the patient's heart rate and get her blood pressure up.

_There_, he'd found the sluggish flow from a large vein that had only been grazed by the bullet. The surgeon sutured it up just as the heart monitor began to indicate ventricular fibrillation. The nearest doctor smartly applied a precordial thump. To the layman, it would seem that he had just needlessly struck the patient's chest with, but in some cases that was all it took to interrupt the deadly rhythm. But not this time. The heart continued quivering uselessly, not pumping blood as it should be, and the line on the monitor showed only a slight up and down wavering. Fortunately the defibrillator was near at hand and now set to charge.

A nurse whipped back the sheet covering the patient's upper body, and another doctor applied the paddles to the woman's pale chest. "Clear!" he called, and then her body surged under the current. When he removed the paddles, the heart monitor continued to show that damned wavering line.

The surgeon stood back, hands fisted as he stared at the monitor. He'd been catching a few seconds' break when this patient had arrived by a rather unusual route – flown in by Superman. He would hate to lose her, not after having seen the haunted look on the hero's face. _C'mon, fight,_ he thought as the woman was shocked yet again. _Fight, dammit, you can come back from this, you can survive this, if you'll just __**fight!**_

He would have been even more distressed if he'd known that this was Lois Lane.


	47. Kiss the Past Goodbye

On countdown for vacation and the timing couldn't be better. With all that comes to pass in this last arc, we both want to be on the top of our game to finish guy out right. Which means a lot of the finale planning (beyond our huge files of notes from the last couple of years) will take place over Anissa's birthday week starting the 11th of next month. And yes, there will be a chapter posted just before we leave town that weekend. ;) We really hope that everyone has enjoyed the ride thus far and that we can still surprise you with what comes next.

Also, as much as it embarrasses me to bring it up and toot any horns in my own general direction, it's that time of year again. The **Superman Movieverse Fanfiction Awards** has come around and this year, Anissa and I are on staff. Nominations are being taken in various categories for fics that were created between **_July 1, 2009_** and _**July 30, 2010**_. Please come over and join us in showing recognition of your favorite authors! That said, I wouldn't mind it terribly if we got a little love.

Annnnnd I'm blushing madly here. Nevermind that! Come nom or vote in the finals if the spirit moves you. I'll be posting the info on my profile shortly. And now, if you'll excuse me, I need another dose of antacid. ;)

~Ends Pimping As She's No Good At It~

* * *

From that first moment when he'd seen Lois covered in blood, memories haunted Kal-El. Brief, fragile moments of their life together: catching her when she fell from the _Daily Planet _roof, Lois wide-eyed and clinging to her impossible rescuer; that day in the desert when he'd arrived too late to save her; the way she'd smiled through tears and knocked Ursa out cold at the Fortress; how his heart had ached at leaving her; returning from Krypton just in time to catch a falling plane, and seeing the dumbfounded and furious expression on her face when he spoke to her after the rescue. A thousand such moments, a thousand glimpses of her lovely face, a thousand expressions from joy to sorrow to triumph to wrath to contentment to early-morning lack of caffeine. Brittle, fracturing, as if slipping away even as she did. Moving beyond his ability to reach.

Ten years was not enough. He could not lose her, could not even bear to listen to her heartbeat as he raced back to Luthor's lair. It was better not to know, for now. For one insane moment, blinded by panic, he had considered the most dire of saves. Somehow she had known what he had been thinking, even as she was fighting to keep her eyes open. _No_, she'd whispered , but her tone was firm as iron. _Not again. You … remember your promise… _

That cold night so many years ago came back to mind, in their first days together. Lois' nightmare. A future spent together and yet always apart, which had led to the discussion of how he had risked all the world to save her once before.

"_No wonder your father hates me…" she'd whispered softly. "Kal-El, don't __ever__ risk everything for me like that again. __Ever__. Please…"_

"_I won't have to." He had kissed her forehead gently. "I'm a lot better at getting there in time now."_

"_Promise me you won't do it again," Lois had demanded, tilting her face up to kiss him quickly and desperately. "__Promise__. I don't __ever__ want you to do that again."_

"_Lois…" Kal-El's voice had been very soft, but he couldn't make that promise. Not when he'd planned to use that power if he hadn't been able to rescue the twins in time. The truth was, he would risk anything, even his own life, for his family. "I love you, Lois. I won't have to take a risk like that again. You see? I'm always looking after you – I got here in moments to wake you from the nightmare. No matter what happens, I'll be there for you." He'd kissed her forehead again, nuzzling her hair. "Besides, I'm not even sure it would __work __a second time."_

She'd eventually wrangled the promise from him, and it was bittersweet now. Especially since Hal had quietly warned him as well. Time itself could have unraveled had he done it again, to save the twins or otherwise. There should be no further testing of this unpredictable power.

And so he was down to that most human of all emotions: hope. He could do nothing more than hope she would be all right while he deliberately tuned out her heartbeat, preferring the uncertainty of hope to the potential finality of despair. That, and do as she requested. The thought brought on an extra burst of speed as he hurtled toward the warehouse.

Kal-El had one priority now – get Jason out. He was no longer even sure that Kala was in the facility; it might all have been an elaborate trap. Since he didn't know where Kala was or if she was there at all, he could only get Jason and then return to the hospital to check on Lois.

Focusing in on Jason's heartbeat made him realize immediately that his son hadn't done as he was told. In fact, he was now over in the section Kal-El had been exploring before he heard the shots. Curbing his frustration, the hero soared back down through the hole he'd previously made in the ceiling and punched through the concrete floor in search of the boy.

He hadn't the strength to even be angry with him for disobeying. Had she been there, Lois would have been furious enough for the both of them. Landing beside him as Jason got to his feet, Kal-El caught his shoulder. "I should have known I'd find you here. Come on, son."

It wasn't until he looked the boy in the face that he saw how huge his eyes had gotten. The shock on Jason's face went beyond just the misery of seeing his mother shot, shaking visibly. "It's not just Luthor! It's not just Luthor! Zod!" he was babbling. "Dad, _Zod_'s here! It's _**Zod**_ working with Luthor!"

That gave Kal-El pause, staring at the boy in horrified disbelief. General Zod had died while escaping prison with Ursa, as had been reported several years ago. He himself had visited the facility…

…and while he was still puzzling that out, the beeping sound broke through his thoughts. He'd heard it before, from the timers attached to the bombs Luthor's arsonist had used a decade before. There was no more time to think about the implications of Zod being alive. Kal-El was too busy snatching up his son and trying to escape the imminent explosion.

They cleared the rooftop, Jason yelping at the speed of their ascent, just as the bombs went off. Below them, the warehouse exploded, glass and metal raining down as smoke and dust rose in a cloud. "_**KALA!**_" Jason screamed, struggling in his father's grip.

Kal-El only flew higher. He told his son, "She's not there, Jason. Even if she was, Luthor would never make it that easy. We should have known that. What we heard was a recording. Only a recording."

Jason still fought him. "You don't know that for sure! There was lead all over the place in there! Dad, we have to go back!"

It was the hardest thing Kal-El had ever done, to fly away from their only solid lead on Kala. But Luthor would not have triggered the explosion if it would endanger his most valuable hostage – not without making absolutely sure Kal-El knew she was in the path of the destruction. No, Kala wasn't there at all. He knew it, and Jason would know it too, if he weren't maddened by fear and anger. "We have to see to your mother first," Kal-El said sternly, and Jason stopped struggling.

"But … you took her to the hospital." Jason's eyes were full of confusion. He was still young enough to believe that getting to the hospital in time could fix everything.

Kal-El knew better, knew that sometimes even he wasn't fast enough to save people. With a heavy sigh, he listened for Lois' heart, dreading what he might hear. At first, he couldn't find it, but then he caught its familiar rhythm despite its weakened pulse. Relief washed through him; she was alive. Anything else he could deal with. "We still don't know how badly she was hurt," he reminded Jason.

That quieted him, Jason clearly worried, and the two spoke no more as they continued toward the hospital.

…

When the text came in, Richard, Lana, and Elise had already been on their way to find a hotel. Every scrap of information they could gather on the decommissioned base had been loaded onto the laptop; they only had to move out before contacting Clark and Lois. Elise was in the back seat, keeping herself busy putting rubber bands around the copies when Richard's phone went off. The ring tone told him a text message had come in.

He was in the driver's seat, the phone was in the console between the two front seats. Lana deftly snagged it, for which he thanked her, expecting her to open it and read the text to him. Which she didn't immediately do. Having a bad feeling about her silence, he glanced at her with a frown.

His wife's fair skin had gone shockingly pale. "Oh my dear God and all the saints in heaven," Lana murmured softly. The unusual phrase made Elise snap her head up apprehensively. The little group had been on pins and needles ever since the other three had split off. This was not a good sign.

Richard, knowing Lana only used that particular phrase in situations that would have warranted profligate profanity from Lois, checked to make sure no cars were nearby and turned to face his wife. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing stronger. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Head for Las Vegas, right now." The shock vanished from her expression almost as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by determination. "They found Luthor. Lois was hurt; she's at a hospital there."

Elise and Lana both saw the stricken expression on Richard's face, but his attention was already far past them. The blow of this news was like having the air knocked out of him. Despite the very happy life he currently had, the pilot had known and loved Lois for a very long time. Ever since the moment he'd met her, he had admired the sharp-tongued spitfire who was legendary at the _Planet_. And once he got to know Lois, began to see further than the epic shadow she cast, he'd had no choice but to adore her. Lois had been nothing like he'd expected. She was so dedicated to her children, never once complaining or feeling sorry for herself because they were so delicate. Lois just buckled down and did what needed to be done to keep them safe.

With him, she'd been wary, and after a while Richard had seen past the snarky exterior to the vulnerability Lois thought she was hiding so well. Once he'd proven he could be trusted with the twins, and with her heart, there were thousands of memories. The way she laughed when he clowned around with Jason and Kala; the way she slept curled around herself; the little arrogant lift to her step when she was on her way to break a big story; the softness in her when they were alone together, the deep romanticism she could show when she needed to be loved; the way she was gorgeous in her anger, which only provoked him to tease and taunt her more. He'd loved her so much in those days, when he still believed Lois would be his if only he could tame her just a little.

Now, of course, she was Clark's, and wilder than ever. Perversely, Richard had found that he loved her all the more for that, the way he loved to see a wild hawk wheeling overhead even more than a tame falcon sitting jessed and leashed. In the past ten years, they'd made even more memories: mock-fighting with Lois in a drift of leaves at the cabin; applauding so hard when she'd won her second Pulitzer that his palms stung for an hour after the ceremony; tossing her into the pool at his new apartment, and getting dragged in after and summarily dunked by his furiously spluttering ex-fiancée.

Lois was so much more to him than an ex, and knowing she'd been hurt badly enough to get hospitalized chilled his soul. He'd seen her superglue a cut in her hand rather than go to a doctor, watched her go to work so sick she could barely stand rather than miss a single day. If she was that badly hurt… He couldn't bear to think of losing her.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Richard floored the accelerator. "Get me GPS directions to that hospital," he told Lana, as the speedometer needle passed eighty miles per hour.

…

Blinking, Lois lay back, while she tried to get her bearings. She could vaguely remember coming into the hospital, her whole body a mass of varying degrees of pain. But now she felt almost well, though oddly light-headed. _Amazing what doctors can do these days – or maybe it's the drugs, _she thought to herself with a stretch_._

Getting out of bed and ambling out of the room, Lois winced a little at the brightness of the hallway. What idiot had decided to paint the whole thing pure white? Curiosity growing, she headed to the right with the vague notion that the nurses' station was that way, noticing that the lights were even brighter.

She passed a set of swinging doors, and glanced in through the windows. A group of surgeons and nurses worked feverishly on a patient, and Lois glanced away, feeling as though she'd violated that poor person's privacy even though she hadn't seen a glimpse of the form lying on the table.

Lois continued up the corridor, wondering where on earth everyone else was. The hallway was deserted, and she couldn't see the nurses' station for the glare. She could no longer see the joints between the floor tiles for the brilliant illumination. Who had turned the lights up so high? How could anyone see their way in this?

Further ahead of her, a silhouetted figure stepped out into the hallway and turned toward her. "Wait!" Lois called, hurrying forward eagerly.

She skidded to a halt just before she reached the figure, suddenly wary. Who was this, simply waiting for her approach? Was she really safe here? The hospital felt decidedly odd to Lois, with the utter lack of other people except for those doctors she'd seen in the other room. And it was strangely quiet, too. Shouldn't there be more noise, other patients, nurses going about their rounds?

And then the figure before her took a step forward, and all of Lois' concerns were blasted aside at the sight of that well-loved face. Her eyes had never felt so wide. It _couldn't_ be… "Momma?" she managed to whisper weakly.

Ella smiled. She looked twenty – no, _thirty_ years younger, her hair restored to its rich mahogany hue, her face unlined, but her eyes as deep and full of wisdom as they'd been the day she…

Lois' breath caught in her throat. Her mother was dead. The truth of that sentence rang through every cell, the soul-deep heartache that had plagued her for the last six months. She was gone, but she was _here_, and Lois choked on a sob, tears threatening. This was what she'd wanted so desperately, one more moment with her mother, one more chance.

Ella held her arms open, and Lois ran to her, hugging her so tight she was afraid she'd hurt the older woman. Or reopen her own wounds – but she didn't feel the slightest twinge as Ella squeezed her tight. "My darling, my Lois, my sweet girl," Ella murmured, a litany of pet names Lois hadn't heard since she turned thirteen.

After a moment they stepped back from each other, Ella stroking her daughter's hair with a gentle hand. "Sweetheart, you know where we are."

Lois understood then, and nodded, curiously accepting for one who'd fought so hard. The illusion of the hospital corridor was almost gone; they stood surrounded by formless brightness, a constant illumination from all sides. "You've passed on, and I think I have, too. I guess this is what comes next, right?" Now she could remember having been here once before, alone, with the memory of suffocating darkness behind her. But Kal-El had turned back time to save her from that fate – something she'd demanded he not even think about this time.

"Not quite," Ella corrected. "This is the waiting room, so to speak. You've got one foot in each world here, darling. You can come with me … or you can go back."

That prompted a puzzled frown from her daughter. "Go back?" Lois could sense what waited for her ahead. Rest, peace, joy – all the things she'd so rarely enjoyed in life. An end to struggle and pain, a just reward for all of her efforts.

She turned to look the way she'd come, and saw the hospital corridor, wreathed in darkness. The only point of light was the room she'd passed earlier, where the doctors worked furiously to save a life … her life, Lois began to realize. How could she go back to that, to the agony that awaited her? She didn't even know how badly she'd been hurt. What if she couldn't walk? What if she needed help just to get through each day? Her fiercely independent spirit rebelled at the thought.

"There's more than pain back there," Ella reminded her. Memory crashed through Lois like a cresting wave thundering on the shore. Her son, her daughter needed her. Jason and Kala were both still in Luthor's lair, and Lois wanted to see them both free and safe. And Kal-El, whom she'd sent back into that viper's nest to retrieve them. She bit her lip at that. How could she let him return only to find her gone in his absence? It was less cruel than dying in his arms would be, that was true, but how could she bear to leave him?

She wavered, pulled in two directions. The love of her family and friends called to her, imagining Richard's heartbreak, Lana trying to stay strong for everyone else, Perry cursing her for skipping out in the middle of a huge story. But that brilliance ahead also summoned her, promising sweet relief, the chance to lay down her burdens and be herself, free from all the neuroses and stresses of life.

"Lois," Ella said softly, and the reporter turned to look at her. "Darling, as tempting as it seems, I need you to fight. All of us do. If you come with me now, it may change the course of your entire family's future. There's a little boy who needs you very much."

"Is Jason all right?" Lois demanded, worried by that remark. The memory of how he had found her came back to her then, along with the sound of Kal-El's voice ordering him to get out of the tunnels. They had left him behind.

Ella shook her head. "I didn't mean Jason, though he needs you, too. You will know him when you see him." She wouldn't elaborate, and the puzzle frustrated Lois. Which little boy? Bryan, Perry's son? But why would _he_ need her?

It didn't matter, she realized. Lois was a fighter, not a coward. She wouldn't go tamely along to whatever paradise waited, not while she was still needed in the world. A greater purpose existed to be served, and Lois would meet that challenge, no matter what it took. "I love you, Momma," she said, and her decision filled her voice.

"I love you, too, my brave Lois." Ella kissed her cheek, hugging her one more time. Lois wondered how much of this she'd remember, later, and didn't care. She had her wish – she knew her mother wasn't really gone, just somewhere else.

"Lane." Lois knew that voice, too, and lifted her head with a scowl starting to furrow her brow. The tall, straight figure was merely a silhouette almost lost in the brightness, but she knew her father, even now. As she watched, his right arm raised in an unmistakable salute. "Well done. You've done me proud, soldier."

That shocked her more than the realization of her own death did. Her father, actually _approving_? Lois was startled into returning the salute. "Go now," Ella urged, tugging at her shoulder to turn her. "Hurry, you haven't much time. And don't be afraid, Lois. I'm right here. I'll always be right here with you…"

Her voice faded as the corridor rushed toward Lois. She had a hurried glimpse of the doctors crowded around the operating table, and then she was looking into her own face. Her features were disturbingly blank, and Lois rebelled against that. She was _always_ expressive; she should never look like a porcelain doll. A badly-used doll, at that, with the bruises she'd collected and the deep shadows under her eyes.

_Oh, this is going to __**suck**__._

…

After the final shock, everyone's eyes were glued to the heart monitor. To their surprise, it showed a strong, steady rhythm. The surgeon was the first to cheer, but not the only one.

He allowed a moment of celebration before restoring order. "All right, people, let's close up and get her to Recovery." He paused to pat the patient's shoulder. "I knew you were a fighter, lady."

…

Kala had dozed off when she heard the chiming sound of the security panel. She sat up, watching it warily, but was relieved to hear Zod's voice. "I have returned."

"Enter," she replied, and the door slid open to admit Zod. He stepped inside and greeted her with a deferential bow. Kala rose and returned the gesture.

Over the past few days she'd adopted his mannerisms and Jor-El's, from the graceful greetings to the way she held her shoulders. She'd even styled her hair after the way she'd seen Lara wear hers. It was partly conscious, an effort to put herself in a Kryptonian frame of mind and thus improve her Kryptonese. But that explained only why she copied their gestures, their stances, when trying to unlock more information from the AI. The rest of the time, it was a subconscious realignment of loyalties. The humans who surrounded Kala now were either detached scientists or brutish thugs. She needed to differentiate herself from them, and so modeled her behavior on Kryptonians.

And the results showed. Even when she wasn't trying, her Kryptonese was near-perfect, her accent distinctly that of Kryptonopolis as she asked Zod, "What have you learned?"

"Much. Your family is very close. They arrived at the loading facility today. Luthor had planned to separate and trap them, but it was Luthor who was driven back into his lair and forced to detonate the explosives planted in the shipping facility." Zod unconsciously stood at the Kryptonian version of parade rest while giving his report.

"No one was harmed?" Kala asked hopefully, mirroring his posture.

Zod nodded as he answered. "Your father is, of course, invulnerable. When last I saw your brother, he was only bruised. I did not encounter your mother. Still, Luthor retreated in shame, so we can reasonably assume he failed." Kala nodded, absorbing that. It hurt to know the her rescuers had been so close only to be turned away, but she knew her family wouldn't give up on her. They'd be here soon.

"Luthor destroyed the access from the shipping facility, which leaves us with only one entrance, well concealed in the mountains," Zod continued. "He detonated the explosives so quickly that I was nearly trapped in the debris, which I am certain would have pleased him. Instead, I discovered that I've regained my power of flight."

That got Kala's attention. "Excellent. Tell me, Dru-Zod, did you manage to speak to my father or brother?"

"Alas, I did not. Your father and I never encountered each other directly, and your brother attacked me on sight. I was unable to restrain him long enough to speak without harming him, so I released him." Seeing the disappointment on her face, Zod added, "Do not fear, Kala. I did not expect either of them to listen to me. They know me only as the half-mad general who swore vengeance upon them. Only you can plead my case."

"And I shall," Kala promised him.

"At the moment, however, there is little else we can do. We must be patient, and ever alert for treachery by Luthor," Zod reminded her. "I shall retire to my rooms; he will be watching us both closely after this setback."

Kala nodded as he let himself out. She was beginning to worry; Luthor hadn't been pestering her to try unlocking more information from the AI. Was he distracted by the rescue attempt? Or had she given him the information he needed? Kala tried to remember everything they'd discussed and how Luthor could possibly use it. He was motivated by profit and power…

As she cudgeled her memory, she was unaware of the door behind her sliding open again.

…

After a quick change of clothes on the way to the hospital, Clark and Jason learned from the admitting nurse that Lois Lane-Kent was listed as still being in surgery. Jason, having hidden his hands in his pockets on arrival, had quickly run to the men's to wash his hands in a sink he wouldn't even look into. He couldn't bear to see the soap turn pink as he washed the blood off.

They waited impatiently for more news, Jason hovering close to his father's side. At last, a man in a surgical gown came out to speak with them. "Mr. Kent?" he said, and when father and son approached, the surgeon gave them a cautious smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting. For a time, we weren't even sure who your wife was. Superman didn't have time to say before he left again. Thankfully, we have a fan or two here." He paused before getting down to business. "She came through the surgery well. It was dicey there for a moment, but she's a fighter, and she pulled through. There's still the possibility of setbacks; she was nicked in a few vital places, but she's made it this far. For now, we've done all we can – the rest is going to be up to her." Clark asked a few questions and began to draw out more technical details, but his son had heard enough.

Sagging into a handy chair, Jason let his muscles go watery from relief. _She's alive. Mom's still alive. Thank you, God._ On some level Jason knew that Lois wasn't yet out of danger; the careful choice of words and deliberate tone of the surgeon's voice made that clear. But the doctor had said it was up to Lois now, and Mom was nothing if not determined. He _had_ to believe she could make it back from this. No alternative was acceptable, no matter how much blood had been pouring down her shirt, no matter the pain in her startled gaze. He had the feeling that he'd see that in his nightmares for a long time to come.

The wait to see her, to reassure themselves of her continued existence, seemed forever; Lois needed to be in recovery before they could see her again. The doctors warned them she might not regain consciousness immediately; her system was struggling to right itself after the extent of the damage. Despite that, neither Dad nor Jason would leave until Lois' vital signs were stable.

They were still sitting side by side, taking comfort in each other's presence in an otherwise empty waiting room, when Richard, Lana, and Elise arrived. Richard was first, his eyes wild, and before Clark had even risen from his seat the pilot had crossed the room, grabbing the older man's forearm in alarm. It was clear that he was every bit as frightened as they were. "What's going on? Clark, where is she? The damn candy-stripers won't tell me a goddamn thing about her condition, since I'm not 'family'. I'm calling bullshit on that."

Clark gripped his hand back just as hard. If anyone in the room knew anything close to what he felt, it was the pilot. And there had been no easy way to explain. The haunted look in his friend's eyes had to reflect the same soul-deep agony he felt. "Richard, I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast. I never thought to let them know. I guess I took it as a given…"

Richard took a deep breath, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. It wasn't Clark's fault. It wasn't fair to attack him with this as soon as they arrived. The shadows he saw under the older man's eyes reminded him that he wasn't alone in all of this. If he was in a blind panic, how must this be effecting Clark? The hero was just barely holding it together. And if he could do that when the love of his life was fighting for her life, it was the least Richard could do to make that easier for him. Right now, they were all hurting. Just a glance at his son was enough to tell him that. "It's all right. I just got carried away. So how is she? Really, I mean."

Meanwhile, Elise had gone straight to Jason, hugging him tight. The pain that tightened his chest loosened just a bit when he buried his face in her shoulder, his eyes closed, trying to focus on the scent of her hair and the warmth of her in his arms. Anything to distract him from the way his hands were still raw and pink from the effort of scrubbing Lois' blood off them, as if removing the sign of her injury could somehow make it not have happened.

They just stood there, neither saying a word, though Elise's mind raced. _Oh, thank God he's all right. He could have been killed. Oh my God, why did he have to go into that mess? And his mom… I can't imagine. We can't let her go. Please, God, let this work out. Let us all be okay when this is over._ Elise drew back a little then, looking up at him with troubled gray eyes and biting her lip, but she had no words of comfort to offer. _Sorry_ just sounded like the most cardboard and useless phrase on the planet. All she could do was be glad, in spite of the danger, that she had risked all of this to be there. At least he didn't have to be alone.

Seeing that Jason was taken care of for the moment, Lana was standing beside Richard and Clark, a hand on either man's shoulder. She had been in Lois' place earlier, attacked first as the weakest link in the family chain, and how bitterly ironic it was that the former cheerleader had killed her assailant, while the general's daughter lay hospitalized. Lana prided herself on being patient, kind, forgiving … but at the moment she hated Luthor with a trembling fury her soul had never known. How dare he strike at the two men she loved most in the world, wounding them by harming the woman they both loved – and wounding Lana, too. She loved Lois as the sister she'd never had, the irrepressible reporter her opposite in so many ways, it was impossible for them not to be fascinated by each other.

It could've been so different. She and Lois could easily have hated each other. But Lois wasn't quite as much of a bitch as she pretended to be, and Lana wasn't quite as yielding as she seemed. The fact that they'd married each other's exes only solidified their friendship instead of making them bitter rivals. Lana felt a great debt to Lois for having a sense of humor about that, and for letting her be a part of the twins' lives, a part of Clark's life.

So now, while Lois fought for her own life, Lana held back her tears and offered comfort to those who needed it. She owed Lois that, and so much more. As Clark began to speak in a dreadful monotone, Lana rubbed his back gently, her expression solemn. "Lois was shot through the shoulder and the belly. The shoulder's not life-threatening; the bullet went straight through her. There might be nerve damage and the muscle's torn, so they're not sure how much use she'll have of her right hand."

His hand going to his mouth in agitation, Richard swallowed forcefully, his expression torn between sorrow and anger. Elise felt Jason lean more heavily against her; this time he wasn't distracted, and hearing the bare facts in layman's terms was like frost creeping over his heart. The thought that they were discussing his mother, his mother with her wicked luck, was surreal. All of this just didn't seem possible. How could a woman fall out of the sky however many times and survive without a scratch, only to be felled by a madman with a gun?

Clark continued his recitation, his voice dry as he struggled with knowledge he didn't want to have. "The abdominal wound … the bullet nicked her liver and basically destroyed her right kidney. She lost a lot of blood. They had to transfuse basically her entire blood volume, and that has its own risks. Also she was losing blood so fast, her heart slowed down, and she went into cardiac arrest."

Jason made a choked sound of denial, Elise squeezing him close protectively. The world went gray as Richard swayed on his feet, and Lana instinctively caught both men around the waist, watching Clark's eyes. "They managed to resuscitate her, and she's in recovery. But they don't know … they don't know when she'll wake up…"

He mastered himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "We're staying until she's stable. Once we know for sure, Jason and I are going back to get Kala."

Elise spoke into the silence that followed that statement. "He's trying to break us, once and for all. And she wouldn't want that."

"He won't," Jason said, his voice low. "Luthor won't win this one."

Everyone was in agreement about that, but the surgeon approached them and forestalled further discussion. "She's moving to the ICU now, Mr. Kent, if you'd like to see her. Room 464."

It took no time at all to have all of them on their feet. Clark shook the man's hand. A tentative relief rushed through him. First obstacle cleared. She'd made it to Recovery. "Thank you. We'll be up in a moment."

Seeing them all start toward the elevators, the man gave a sincerely apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. We can only allow immediate family members into the ICU."

"It's all right," Lana said, putting a restraining hand on Richard's arm when he opened his mouth to protest. "We'll wait. We know she's in good hands."

However, she wasn't fast enough that Clark missed the vaguely resentful look crossed Richard's face. "I'll see if there's anything I can do about that. Someone's going to have to watch over her while the two of us are gone. Don't worry, Richard."

He and Jason were silent on the elevator ride to the Intensive Care Unit, both of them afraid of what they would see. When they finally got to Lois' room, the reality was both better and worse than they'd expected.

Lois looked as if she were only sleeping, no injuries beyond the bruise around her eye visible, but anyone who knew her as well as they did knew she never slept flat on her back. And the various tubes and wires coming out of her added a macabre touch. Jason remembered seeing Nana in the hospital, how he'd hated all the machines that clustered around her bedside like harbingers of doom. In all of his sixteen years, he had never seen his mother like this, never helpless in a hospital bed, never looking so small. It was a sight he hoped they wouldn't have to see ever again once this nightmare was over. He wasn't sure his heart could take it. Tightening his jaw against the ache in the back of his throat, he took Mom's hand and tried not to think about how cool it was against the warmth of his.

Clark stroked her hair softly, using his x-ray vision to verify the extent of the damage and check the repairs. He had to think of it in clinical terms, or he'd go mad. The laparotomy had left a long incision down Lois' belly, and the place where he liked to kiss her was now bisected by a line of stitches.

Looking down at his wife, Clark murmured, "This ends here and now – Luthor's gone far enough."

It was then that Jason chose to speak up, his eyes never leaving his mother's closed ones. "He's gone _too_ far," the boy growled, his voice choked with rage. He trembled slightly, as if he might fly apart at any second. "He should have gone after _me_, not her. She got shot because she was protecting _me_. She's always tried to protect us from him. I'll kill him for this."

"You will not," his father said, and that was Kal-El speaking, not a trace of mild manner in his voice. "Luthor is a murderer, Jason, we are not."

His outrage coloring every word, Jason snapped back, "Doesn't he _deserve_ to die for this? _Mom_ died on the operating table, he ought to pay for that."

"Could you have saved your mother's life, if the doctors couldn't, if the most advanced medical knowledge available couldn't save her?" Kal-El countered. "I couldn't, and neither could you. If we cannot give life to one who deserves it, how dare we choose to give death?"

"Mom would've shot him."

Kal-El's patience was running out. "She likely couldn't have taken him down any other way. Forced to choose between her life and his, I cannot fault her. But you and I are different. We can bring him to justice – not vengeance. We do not take revenge, Jason. That is what separates us from men like Luthor, or General Zod."

"And what if she dies, Dad? What then? We both know he did enough damage to her that it's a possibility. What do we do then?" Merely speaking the words turned Jason's heart inside out.

It was as hard for Kal-El to hear as it was for Jason to say, and both of them glanced at Lois as if she might've caught that negative remark. Kal-El sighed heavily and took Jason by the shoulders. "Nothing, son. Even if the worst happens, killing Luthor will not bring her back. It will not even ease our grief. All it would do is prove that he was right all along, about power and about us. If we take the law into our own hands, we are no better than Luthor himself."

Jason steadfastly ignored the burn behind his eyes. _It's not right. None of this is right. Mom shouldn't be here, her hand shouldn't feel this cold. Kal should be back home with all of us. Mom and Dad never should have fought in the first place! Damn him, he's not going to take my family away! Not now! _Struggling against the fury and despair he felt knotting up inside him, the boy raised his blue eyes to his father's. The thought of leaving his mother for a moment brought a lance of guilt; what would she think if she knew he was abandoning her? He knew immediately, squeezing her hand. "Dad, Mom wouldn't want us here unless we had Kala with us. We need to know what we're up against and we need to get her out. Maybe if we can get to her, get her free, maybe … maybe Mom…"

Kal-El agreed. "Maybe, son. Kala has to be our priority now. We can do nothing more for Lois but save Kala. That's what she wanted; for both of you to be safe. Wait here a moment; I need to make arrangements for Richard and Lana to be allowed up here while we're gone." It was clearly tearing him apart to walk away from Lois, but he had more experience in doing what must be done instead of what he wanted to do. Jason had a harder time reasoning with his own heart.

Jason only nodded, holding Lois' hand as if he were her only link to life. If anyone could get the hospital to bend their rules, it was his father. And Dad and Lana should be up here, keeping an eye on Mom.

At least until he and Dad got back with Kala. And they _would_ bring her back, no matter who stood in their way. It was all or nothing now. The time for waiting was over.

…

Luthor's hands were on her throat before Kala became aware of her peril. Her concentration had been so fiercely on trying to figure out what he wanted from her that she'd missed the approach of the man himself.

At the touch, she leapt away from him, banging her shin on the table and getting tangled up with the chair she'd been sitting in. Luthor's laughter was rich, that expansive, friendly laugh that never failed to chill her. It was then that Kala felt something hanging around her neck and pawed at it wildly. He had clasped something around her in that unguarded instant. Kryptonite, he'd collared her with kryptonite, she was already nauseous…

"Just a little gift – although you might call it an inheritance," Luthor said lightly. Kala's hands found the thing, but the shape was familiar. Breathing heavily, she forced her eyes to the mirror and saw that what he'd put around her neck wasn't kryptonite.

It might as well have been.

The girl stared at the topaz locket, the same one she and Jason had given Mom on their birthday. She had never seen her mother without it, even when they had fought. The silver chain was stained with something dark, something that felt slightly tacky under Kala's fingers… "Mom," she whispered, realizing the only way Luthor could have gotten it from her. The world shifted dangerously, her vision blurring.

Luthor chortled maliciously. "It took me ten years, but I finally got her. And with her own gun, too."

"You lie," Kala snarled, hatred and horror rising up in her like a black, crushing wave. "It's always lies with you. It's a trick, some kind of elaborate trick… Zod said they were okay…"

Luthor was still smiling, manic and gleeful. "Oh, it's no trick, princess. Maybe Zod just spun the story a little differently for you – he's awfully considerate of your feelings, isn't he?" Luthor let the implication hang in the air before finishing with brutal finality. "I called her in with a manipulation of your voice, made her think she was coming to your rescue, and I shot her down like a mad dog in the street. I took the necklace for a trophy, but once I realized what it was, I thought _you_ should have it."

And in fact, Zod _hadn't_ said anything about her mother. It could be true… Kala made herself open the locket, having to know, only to see the photos she and Jason had carefully cropped to fit within. Her stomach lurched, her whole body atremble. _Oh God, Mom. Mommy, oh God, Mommy! No! __**NO**__!_ It was real, Luthor had really shot her mother, and oh God if that was true than maybe the newspaper headline wasn't a fake, maybe Luthor was picking off her whole family one by one.

All of Kala's Kryptonian airs and sophistication fell away. She had been keeping her fears locked away just to cope with the daily stresses of living under Luthor's thumb, but she couldn't pretend to be the princess in a crystal tower any longer. Her very human terror and rage surged forth.

"You fucking _bastard_," she hissed, tears smearing her makeup, and lunged for him. Luthor uncapped the kryptonite ring, backing away. Even so, she fell to the ground retching only a few feet away from him.

In spite of that, he couldn't resist one more parting shot. "I will miss your mother, you know. But fortunately I now have a reasonably accurate substitute…" His low, deadly voice hung on the air even as Luthor slipped out of the room, quick and silent as the snake he was.

Kala lay curled on the floor, sobbing. Her mother was dead, and the last words between them had been furious accusations. She would never be able to apologize for how she'd behaved, or how close she'd come to slapping her own mother. Lois was dead, and had died believing her own daughter hated her.

That knowledge gnawed at Kala, tearing her apart from the inside. She cried until her stomach ached, until her eyes burned, until she felt as though she'd cried out every tear her body would ever produce.

And then she sat up, trembling from the aftereffects of kryptonite and grief. With a shaking hand she lifted the locket to her lips and kissed the topaz. "I will kill Luthor, if it's the last thing I do," she solemnly promised the air, and then rose to confront Zod on his omission.


	48. Thieves in the Temple

Wow, what an insane last three weeks it's been! I want to thank everyone for their well-wishes and understanding about the delays in the schedule. I wish I could have helped it, but I feel like I've been in a whirlwind of awful for the whole time. I'm hoping this one is a little better than the last, although it's not as long as I would have liked. Then again, with things the way they've been at my job and just Real Life butting its nose in, I'm just glad that we got this one in on-time. Love to you all and thanks again! *big huge snuggles*

Oh, also, the final ballot for the **Superman Movieverse Fanfiction Awards **goes up later today and will run through **July 17**. Please take a moment to go over and cast your votes (the link is in my profile)! I wanna say vote for me, but vote for the fics that you love the most, be it Anissa and I or one of the other awesome authors out there! Pass on the love!

And now, without further ado, on with the show:

* * *

Wonder Woman surveyed the scene before her, shaking her head in disbelief. It simply made no sense! Why would armed robbers choose to attack one of the most heavily fortified banks on the west coast, in broad daylight, using sophisticated equipment that probably cost more than they could hope to net from the robbery? And when police arrived, instead of fleeing in the helicopter they'd brought, the thieves took hostages and engaged in a potentially deadly firefight.

It was madness. Fortunately, one woman with an invisible plane, an unbreakable lasso, and a rapidly-shortening temper had ended it without loss of life. It had been a near thing, though – and it called to mind a similar situation on the opposite coast more than ten years ago.

Luthor had been behind that bank robbery, as he was likely behind this one. That was what infuriated Diana the most. That the man had the sheer gall to sponsor such insanity, _just_ to tie the League's hands dealing with his mess. He was doing it, of course, to increase the odds of getting Superman alone. And given that Clark had nearly been hurt last week by one of Luthor's traps, she didn't like the idea of him taking on his nemesis alone. _Someone_ ought to be keeping watch on him, who had so often come to their aid. She'd lost track of how many times he'd saved another JLA member's life, including her own.

Well, at least this one had come to a satisfactory conclusion – only property damage and minor injuries, no fatalities. Diana clicked on the communicator and reported to Oracle, "All clear on this front – where are you sending me next?"

Only prior knowledge allowed her to identify the computer-scrambled voice that answered her. "Assist to… Cancel that, it's under control. Proceed to… Hold on." The communicator went silent, Oracle clearly speaking to someone else, and Diana waited. The past two days had been like this, everyone constantly on the run, dealing with one crisis only to be sent to another. Some of the younger members of the JLA had been making names for themselves during the frenzied pace. Diana only hoped they didn't burn out in their enthusiasm. She also hoped Oracle herself was managing well. Barbara worked herself harder than anything she demanded of anyone else, as all of the Batclan tended to do, and she had to be feeling the strain.

Oracle picked back up, a hint of surprise making its way through the digitizer. "Return to Watchtower. We've received a communication from Superman, and Batman would like to speak with you."

"On my way," Diana replied, her curiosity piqued. Hopefully Clark's news was good – and what did Bruce want? Generally if he needed a word with you he simply turned up in the shadows of the room you were currently in – a habit that both impressed and infuriated his teammates.

Diana smiled slightly. Well, maybe sneaking onto an invisible plane hovering six thousand feet above sea level was a bit of a stretch, even for Bruce. Of course, she'd never say that in front of him – he'd find a way to prove her wrong.

…

Luthor hummed quietly to himself – everything was going perfectly, and he wanted to savor this moment. Lois was dead, the alien's family thrown into confusion, and all of his plans were coming into fruition. He was ready to abandon this facility if necessary, all essential personnel and processes backed up at the lab in Australia.

He held Lois' old Ladysmith, turning the gun over and over again in his hands. Not only was this the trophy that he'd taken from her ten years ago, it was now the weapon that had slain her. The locket would have been just as powerful a memento, but he'd needed that to break Kala's mind.

The girl was very close to the tipping point now. That last strong push might have been enough to snap her. Once she'd lost it, he could rebuild her personality into what he wanted her to be, making her the perfect weapon against her father. Even if that didn't work, just tearing her down was a victory, knowing the pain it would cause his worst enemy. Kal-El might be invulnerable to all physical harm, but his family was a greater weakness than kryptonite.

His only obstacle to molding Kala was her mentor. Zod had his own motives, and Luthor didn't necessarily know what those were. The Kryptonian's mind didn't work like an ordinary human's. Regardless, if Luthor couldn't turn Kala into something useful for his purposes, he had a backup plan.

There was always a backup plan, and then another backup plan in case that one failed. That was part of his genius, along with the fact that no action Luthor took served a single purpose if it could be made to serve several more. One way or another, Kala would be useful to him: as hostage, as bait, as vengeance, as the key that unlocked the information on the crystals, and as a bargaining chip with Zod.

Thoughtfully, Luthor lifted the gun and inhaled deeply. Faintly beneath the fresh cordite, he could still catch a trace of Lois' perfume clinging to the rosewood grip.

…

Grief was the fuel on which rage fed, burning higher and hotter with each step she took. By the time Kala had left her room and crossed the hallway, she had a fine blaze going. She slapped her palm against the crystal panel outside of Zod's room, for the first time since she had arrived not caring about the impression it gave.

It opened at her touch, Kala not even having a moment to register her surprise before she stormed in. Zod rose to his feet at her entrance, but before he could even get so far as to say her name Kala was fighting the urge to slap his face. Or far worse, Luthor's words ringing in her mind. Instead she snarled an accusation. "They were here, all three of them came here for me! And I know you were up there with him, don't even try to deny it! Why didn't you tell me Luthor killed my mom?"

Just a look at the girl's face was enough to make the General aware that only thinking very fast would keep him from losing ground with Kala. "I was unaware that he had even encountered her. To my knowledge only your father and brother arrived here." Even as he spoke, she was stalking right up to him, the expression on her face as feral as the moment they'd met. In spite of his efforts, her passionate humanity had momentarily reasserted itself and he was furious at the setback Luthor's crude actions had caused.

Knowingly violating the personal space decorum demanded, shouting only inches away from his face, Kala was clearly mad with grief. "They were alone, huh? Only Dad and Jase? Then what's this?" Zod did not flinch even as Kala thrust the bloodied locket toward him as far as its chain would allow. Her guilt was written in every line of her features and it was obvious that remorse motivated her impassioned behavior.

Zod inclined his head to look at it. "I presume it is an item of jewelry belonging to your mother, one which Luthor could not have simply stolen?"

His calm, quiet demeanor served only to further infuriate her. "Obviously. She'd never let him take it," Kala informed him hotly. "It's the present Jase and I gave her on our birthday. I haven't seen Mom take it off. After all that's happened, I didn't expect that she'd still be wearing…" She trailed off, trembling, her eyes moist. Trying to keep from flying apart right now was a struggle. She just wanted to close her eyes and for it all to be over. It couldn't get any worse. Another nightmare, why couldn't she wake up and find out this was all a nightmare? Her mind was awhirl, reality trying to fog over. She swallowed a shudder, trembling as the world tried to dip away on her.

Such displays of emotion were actually quite disgusting to Zod. He valued restraint, particularly in women. Kala as a lady of noble Kryptonian blood ought to have shown more decorum. Still, now was not the time to correct her, lest he lose her. He had been subtly shaping her into what she could become and had made great progress, but his hold over her was still vulnerable in spite of its strength.

Little as he liked to do so, he placed one hand on her shoulder. That unaccustomed intimacy stilled her. "It is still possible that Luthor has tricked you, thinking that this would unbalance your mind and leave you open to his manipulations," Zod cautioned.

Fragile hope blossomed in her eyes, and Kala took a ragged breath. She grabbed on for any hand-hold, any probable hope that all of her family still lived and were still coming for her. To believe otherwise would to give way to the madness tearing at her. Would be to let Lex win. "He would do that, too. I suppose he _might_ have gotten it off her somehow. In some way where she couldn't fight back. She could still be…" It was a desperate thought, borne of the need to not give in, but she clung to it as tightly as she could. She _had_ to believe.

"I will go and learn what I can. You should remain here. Luthor does not yet know it, but I have revoked his access to this room."

No sooner had the words passed his lips than Kala responded with, "Can you do the same for mine?" Just as he had hoped, Zod could see the Kryptonian in her again in that question; she was again beginning thinking logically, planning ahead, as opposed to focusing on the trauma right in front of her – or around her neck, as it so happened. An excellent sign.

"Not quickly or easily." He was very careful to tell her as close to the truth as he sensibly could. "I believe we have only days at most before your family breaches this facility. The risk of the alteration being discovered thus outweighs the benefit. Remain here, under the yellow light, where you shall be safe." With that, he bowed to her and turned to leave.

"Dru-Zod," Kala called to his back in Kryptonese. When Zod turned to gaze at her questioningly, she added, "Thank you," returning the bow.

"You are welcome, Kala Kal-El," he said gravely, and was gone.

…

Trying to navigate the rules of any bureaucracy was like trying to dig through quicksand. As fast as you shovel out the slop, more pours in. Jason knew that, but he was still young enough to get impatient and angry with the delays, especially in light of the sheer soul-numbing insanity of the day. Leaving his mother's side hurt, but he would have to do it sooner rather than later – and the doctors weren't expecting her to wake up today. A while after his father left him to explain to the hospital staff that Richard and Lana _were_ immediate family, Jason slipped out to see Elise. Watching Dad struggle to keep himself in check just made him need to see Elise all the more.

He found her in the waiting room up the hallway, paging through an old copy of Discovery Magazine. It looked as if Richard and Lana had to have gone with Dad to plead their case, and Jason was grateful for a moment alone with Elise. But he found he had too much to say and somehow not enough words for it. Fortunately Elise heard him coming, gray eyes glancing up into his. Without a word, she dropped the magazine and stood immediately, Jason pulling her into a hug. Emotion knotted up inside him; taking the comfort she so willingly gave, he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

Elise hugged him back, tightly, feeling her eyes start to water. So this was what Lois had meant about it not being easy. From the look of Jason, what he _needed_ was a hot shower, a long nap, some comfort food, and then a longer nap. And then a good, long reunion with his twin. If Elise had her way, she'd supervise every bit of that – well, maybe not the shower – and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally slept.

That acknowledged, they both knew that what Jason was actually going to _do_ was go out there to fight the same people who had kidnapped his sister and shot his mom. There was no getting around that. After all of the danger surrounding them, after the potentially-fatal attack so short a time ago, he was going to go back out into this fight. And that's the way things had to be. There was no way to change his mind, they both knew it, and Elise found that she didn't want to. She was scared, God knew she was, but how could she let herself talk him out of this? This was who he was, who his family was, who he was meant to be. And Elise was finding that she loved him even more for that. The thought just made her hug him tighter.

Jason needed that hug, murmuring against her temple. "I've gotta go get her."

"I know," Elise replied. She found herself fighting the urge to tell him that she loved him; it was just too romance-novel pat for her to actually _say_ it, though. Instead she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Be safe."

For that, he had no reply, and Elise felt a twinge in her chest. He should have promised her that he would be careful, but he _couldn't_ promise that. Jason's life was going to be the opposite of safe and careful, and she should've realized that when they were fleeing from a flash flood yesterday. The full understanding of what that meant for her future cast a shadow over Elise, like a rock overhang looming above.

All of this was too much for her at the moment. Elise pulled back from the hug and caught Jason's face. "Listen up, Jason. You and Kala both had better come back here to me in one piece, okay?" Her tone was threatening instead of pleading, and that got a smile from him.

"Or what?" Jason asked with tired humor. "Elise, I'm bulletproof. What are you gonna do to me?"

She could've done without that little revelation, though a part of her was keenly interested in just how the invulnerability worked. "I'll tell everyone at school you drool in your sleep," she promptly replied.

"I do?" Jason asked, his brow furrowing with self-consciousness. If he did, Kala would have given him unmerciful hell by now…

"No, but none of them are gonna know that," she retorted, and was rewarded with a chuckle. That was exactly what she'd wanted, and Elise's sarcastic smile softened. For a long moment she and Jason just looked at each other, bereft of words.

…

Zod strode to Luthor's office, unopposed by security. Most of the scientists had been removed to the auxiliary lab, and the hired thugs didn't feel the need to patrol so often. Still, they were growing restless, trapped here in a fog of their own testosterone and frustrated by the wait for the foe to arrive. He would have to handle them carefully, as time wore on.

He found Luthor, unsurprisingly, gloating over his victory. The man appeared to be kissing his gun; Zod chose not to comment on that aberrant behavior. Instead, he got directly to the point. "Is it true that you have murdered Lois Lane?"

Luthor grinned horribly, his eyes alight. "I shot her twice with hollowpoint bullets from this gun. Do you know, for all they call it a Ladysmith, this is one of the deadliest handguns on the market?"

"Fascinating," Zod replied in bored tones. "Did you see her die, or are you simply assuming?"

That cut through Luthor's obscene good humor, and he narrowed his eyes. "She was still alive when I left, but too weak to stand up or talk. I suppose there's some infinitesimal chance she could survive, if he got her to a hospital fast enough. What's it to you, General?"

"You are needlessly alienating the girl."

"Needlessly?" Luthor asked, sly pleasure coloring his face just a little.

Zod sighed. The man _would _choose to be difficult. "We are very close to our goals. She has been extremely helpful, in spite of the pressure you have placed on her. And now, when victory is all but in your grasp, you have chosen to inform her of your attack upon her mother in the most upsetting and disturbing fashion possible. Why, Luthor? Why do you deliberately estrange her _now_, of all times? It is foolish – and worse, it is poor tactics."

Luthor's gimlet eyes watched him. "Again, General, why do _you_ care? I have my own reasons, which I have no inclination to share. You should be happy that I've severed another tie between your little sweetheart and her former life."

By the keenness of his gaze, the human expected some telling reaction. Zod simply looked at him, letting none of his thoughts show. Perhaps he could use Luthor's expectations for his own aims… His voice was utterly cold when he spoke. "Regarding Kala Kal-El, you shall not lay hands upon her again."

"Is that so?" Luthor purred, amusement written large on his features. "My, aren't you the protective swain, General Zod! How exactly do you propose to _stop_ me if I decide to lay hands on her again? And I might – the mother's dead, but the daughter makes a fair substitute."

He was purposefully goading, but Zod did not rise to the bait. "Put that thought aside, Luthor. You will not touch her. You gave me your word that the girl would be mine if I secured her cooperation; I will not allow you to rescind it."

The man rose, annoyed that his gambit wasn't yet working. Luthor lifted his hand, prominently displaying his lead ring. Laughing nastily, he retorted, "Oh really? Watch your tongue, General, or I'll have you on your knees in agony."

Few things could truly stir Zod to anger, but open scorn was among them. He glanced about the room, and his gaze landed on a life-size marble bust. Perfect. "Do not threaten me, you miserable worm," he snarled. "I will not tolerate your interference any longer. _You will not touch her again._"

Luthor bridled, but before he could speak Zod continued icily, "As for that paltry ring of yours, the stone is very small, the amount of radiation it puts forth quite feeble. Furthermore, kryptonite causes only pain and weakness. It does not interfere with my powers. True, it is capable of killing me – _eventually_. In the time before I become incapacitated, there is much I could do."

So saying, he darted a quick glance at the bust. Heat vision seared through it, neatly severing the head from the neck, and after a moment of hesitation the noble face shattered on the floor. "I believe my point is made," Zod concluded, and walked out, deliberately turning his back on Luthor to show his contempt of the man.

He could return to Kala with this glimmer of hope, but it might not be enough. Luthor had surely turned the girl against any alliance with him, but her loyalty to Zod was not yet fully assured. And in the coming crisis, he needed her to trust him utterly, if his plans for her were to be fulfilled.

She craved certainty, and if he provided her with it, regardless of the outcome, it might seal the bargain between them. Now he had only to discover the means of acquiring that knowledge and sharing it with Kala.

…

It had only taken an hour, but Kal-El had talked some sense into the hospital authorities. Richard and Lana were finally installed in Lois' room in the ICU; Richard kissed his ex-fiancée's cool forehead tenderly, watching her still form with worried eyes, while Lana simply took the hand that didn't have an IV in it and sat down to keep watch. Even Elise was allowed in, though she seemed ill at ease and restless.

When he and his father finally withdrew, Jason was loathe to leave them alone at their watch, but the call to save Kala was more powerful. Elise caught his gaze one last time before he left, giving him a smile full of encouragement and trepidation. At least he could ease his mind a little by doing what Mom had asked. "Do you think they'll be okay while we're gone?"

Clark nodded then, although his mind seemed to be set on something else far beyond the hospital hallway. "Luthor won't be able to touch them while we're gone. I put in a few calls. One of them was to your uncle in Gotham. Some of the team are already on their way. I won't ask them to fight our battles for us, but I can ask them to safeguard the rest of the family."

That was a relief. Jason had dreaded leaving them for that exact reason. He couldn't have lived with himself if further catastrophe had occurred while they were alone. That burden lifted, Jason was free to turn to his next question. "Dad, how'd you get clearance for Elise?"

That actually got a chuckle from Kal-El, bringing him back to himself for a moment. Never bothering to look at his son, he said lightly, "You both look and act a little older than you are. It wasn't too far a stretch when I told them she was our daughter-in-law."

That was enough to hit the brakes right there. Jason practically choked, stumbling to a stop with eyes wide in disbelief. Had his own _father_ said that? Now Dad was glancing at him with tired amusement. Jason just shook his head before catching up to him. It was at his expense, but if it kept that shuttered look off Clark's face, he'd take it. The boy knew his father was trying to shut down, force the search for Kala to come first, but he couldn't let that happen. At least he would be here to help balance it. Coming abreast of his father, Jason finally managed to squeak as they left the entrance to the emergency room , "Um, yeah. Okay then. So what's our plan? How are we getting back in?"

Clark's voice remained remarkably steady, but then, he had years of experience in remaining objective during a crisis. "I've got copies from Richard showing a decommissioned underground military base that's so close to the building we were just in, Luthor _has_ to be using it."

Jason was nodding. "Right, it's gotta have above-ground access, for air if nothing else. We can just find an air shaft or something…"

Clark's face had gone serious again, although not as distant as the moment before. His mind was locked onto the plans to recover his daughter and Jason was satisfied with that. "We'll be making our own entrance. I don't want to give Luthor any way to predict where we'll come in."

There really was no way to argue with his logic on that point, and Jason was doubly grateful that he and his father were working together on this. If he'd had had to go alone to rescue Kala… He had had sense enough to realize that he still had a lot to learn. Well, there was a reason why he tried to take most of his cues from his dad. Jason wasn't too arrogant to learn from a veteran's vast experience. And who had more in this kind of thing than Dad? "All right, so let's get going. It'll only take us a few minutes to get there and then…"

Kal-El shook his head, his son looking at him in sheer puzzlement. "I don't want to waste any time either, Jason, but we're going up north first. I have a few questions for your grandfather that I need the answers to before we jump further into this." Jason scowled at that, but before he could protest, Kal-El put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him seriously. "Son, Luthor expects us to come charging right back. Which is exactly what both of us want to do. But it's very clear that he's figured out how we think. The only way we can outsmart him is to go against our first instincts, no matter how badly we want to do otherwise. Especially now that we know the General's involved."

…

Luthor stared at the door Zod had just stormed out of. He could almost _feel_ the gears turning in his own mind, ratcheting up to greater speed. The Kryptonian's behavior had changed markedly over the past week, and Luthor needed to know why.

In the beginning, when he'd first sprung Zod out of prison, the arrogant general had seemed like a shadow of his former self. He'd been quietly contemptuous instead of outright scornful, and he had only challenged Luthor's authority in small ways. In fact, he'd been so compliant that Luthor had stopped needling him. It served no purpose when Zod was already broken to his will, and wasn't even any fun when the Kryptonian steadfastly refused to be baited.

At the time, he'd thought that defeat and imprisonment had been too great a blow to Zod's psyche to be overcome. Now he had to re-evaluate that conclusion, in light of today's sudden show of spirit.

Kala might be the reason, though Luthor didn't like to jump to such conclusions. Correlation was not causation, and just because the girl's arrival coincided with the change in Zod's behavior didn't mean she'd caused it. Luthor narrowed his eyes, mulling over the variables.

It seemed equally likely to him that Zod was reacting to a living reminder of his heritage in the daily conversations with Jor-El, or to the inevitable arrival of his enemy Kal-El. The first could have increased his pride, and both could have wakened his thirst for vengeance. But would vengeance have made him so protective over Kala?

No, it had to be Kala herself. What could Zod want with her? The obvious answer was the wrong one. Kryptonians didn't _do_ such things, and Zod had shown no interest in the kind of entertainment the security staff enjoyed. So he had to have some other reason to protect the girl.

Pure Kryptonian chivalry never entered Luthor's mind as a motive. He'd seen how Ursa behaved, how she heeled like a dog or literally followed in Zod's footsteps. No, there was something Zod wanted, and Luthor bent his mind to discovering what it was. After all, if you know what people want, you can control them.

And if he couldn't control Zod, well, killing Kala's only protector might be the final step in gaining absolute control over her.

Mercy chose that moment to stalk into the room. "What have you done?" she snapped.

Luthor raised one eyebrow. Upsetting Mercy's emotional equilibrium was quite difficult; fortunately, he enjoyed her temper. "It's been a busy morning," he quipped.

She stood in front of his desk, glaring, before finally taking a seat. "The access records say you went into the girl's room. I thought we were going to give her the impression only she could get in there?"

"This took precedence." He leaned back in his seat, watching her.

Her stance alone made it evident that Mercy was rapidly reaching the end of her considerable patience. "What, exactly, was so important?"

"Informing Kala of her mother's fate." Luthor still felt a little chill rush down his spine at the memory. The look in the girl's eyes … he'd destroyed her world with two bullets, shattered her present, past, and future in a single action. The sheer destructive power of it was better than any drug.

For a long moment, Mercy simply stared at him. "Lex, _why_? Everything was going according to plan…"

"_Nothing_ has gone according to plan," he snapped back. "_Your_ agent couldn't get me the boy, so we had to settle for the girl, whose powers we _don't_ know. They were onto us within hours when they should've thought it was a runaway instead of a kidnapping for a few days, at least. Hope failed, getting killed in the process, and your agent failed when we tried to use her to mop up. _You_ told me all of those failures would work to our advantage, but they haven't. The alien's family has accelerated the timetable and they'd be in here among us right now if I hadn't shot Lois. The _only_ thing that's gone right for us so far is the one thing I insisted on handling _personally_."

Mercy had no reply, her eyes going wide in astonishment. She had no fear of him, and he'd always liked that, but maybe it was time to give her a reason to worry. Leaning forward, Luthor made his voice low and thoughtful. "In fact, in light of all your failures, I'd almost suspect you of … less than perfect allegiance. Whose side are you really on, Ms. Graves?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Just because every other woman you've slept with eventually throws you over for Tall Dark and Cape-Flapping doesn't mean I will. And if I _was_ on his side, I'd have done him a favor and stuck a knife in your ribs a long time ago." She dropped the scoffing tone to become more serious. "No, Lex, I work for you – but you have never been able to think on your feet. You plan ahead, and you think you've planned for every circumstance, but when the world proves you wrong, you're lost. I told you to leave them be. I told you to get the cell samples you needed another way, or from someone else. And when you _insisted_ on pursuing your vengeance, I tried to do it in such a way that we might live to see the end of it."

Very few people could silence Luthor, but she'd accomplished it. Mercy was much better at the instinctive, seat-of-the-pants stuff than he was, and Luthor knew it. He had no problems setting plans in motion that wouldn't come to fruition for a decade, but when people – it was always people, they were the only variables he couldn't completely account for – behaved in unexpected ways, he often found himself falling back on plans he'd never intended to actually _use_. He did not, however, enjoy being reminded of it.

Mercy wasn't finished, either. "Incidentally, I've reviewed the security footage of the warehouse facility. Ms. Lane appeared to still be alive – Superman took her first, then returned for the boy, both of them escaping before the explosion."

Luthor's scowl deepened. "She was shot twice. If she's alive, she's badly hurt. If you're so loyal to me, Mercy, then go and finish her. I'll deal with the alien and his half-breed when they arrive."

"What about the girl?"

Luthor laced his fingers together thoughtfully. "If her mind is as close to broken as I suspect after my little intervention today, the loss of her twin and her father should leave her wholly vulnerable to reprogramming."

"And if she's resistant to brainwashing?" Mercy's brows angled up. "The general's been at her, we know that."

"Then exposing his ulterior motive and killing him will bring her back to our side," Luthor said with a shrug. He grinned and added, "Either that, or we use her as a lever to move him. I'm not sure quite what it is with the two of them, but I _am_ certain we can use it to our advantage. Personal attachments are always a weakness, wouldn't you say, Mercy?"

She smiled that wintry smile and nodded. "I'll head out and see if I can find Ms. Lane. The closest trauma center is in Las Vegas, so I'll start there. It's not as if he couldn't reach any hospital in the U.S. in about the same time, but with his wife dying, he wouldn't have wanted to waste a single second."

As Mercy rose to leave, she added, "I agree with you, Lex. But remember, a vendetta is also a personal attachment."

She swept out of the room, striding swiftly for the lone elevator available to them now. Several minutes after she passed, Zod slipped out of the alcove where he'd been lingering. Las Vegas – that gave him a destination, one he'd seen on maps of the state. Though he didn't know where he was, exactly, he knew how to find out. After all, though none of the maps in Luthor's office or elsewhere in the facility had this location marked on them, they did conveniently provide an aerial view.

…

The Fortress was always lighted, but when no one was there the crystals were barely illuminated, a soft glow that created more shadows than it dispelled. As soon as Kal-El landed with Jason, however, the light intensified. Jason had grown used to the effect over the years, barely noticing it. Only now, when he was trying so hard not to think about so many things, did he focus on it, seemingly fascinated by the light that bloomed at their approach and shyly retreated a few moments after they left.

Kal-El approached the control panel, selected the father crystal, and slotted it into place. The image of Jor-El appeared on the smooth crystal wall opposite and nodded to them. "Kal-El, Jon-El, greetings and welcome."

"Thank you, Father." Jason heard his father slip automatically into Kryptonese, and nodded politely to his grandfather. In this place, the language sounded normal and appropriate, even the abbreviated Kryptonian version of his own name sounded right.

"What brings you here, my son?" Jor-El asked.

"Father, I find myself in dire circumstances, and in desperate need of information." That got Jor-El's attention, and Jason watched the hologram's expression vacillate between horror, anguish, and outrage as Kal-El explained the events of the past several days.

A casual observer might have thought Jor-El was listening with only academic interest, but Jason had long ago learned the subtleties of Kryptonian body language and expression. The slightest flicker of a brow or dilation of a pupil spoke volumes among a people who valued detachment and restraint so highly. The young man waited for his father to finish, wondering if Jor-El would be able to help them.

"And so I have learned this day that my old foe is aided by an even deadlier nemesis, General Zod, who had sworn vengeance upon all of your heirs," Kal-El concluded. "Father, I beseech you, tell me all that you know of this man, whom we have had so little occasion to discuss, so that I may devise a way to defeat him utterly and rescue your granddaughter."

Everything Jason had just been thinking about Kryptonian objectivity vanished. He'd never seen such a naked expression of dismay on his grandfather's face, and couldn't even have imagined it five minutes ago. All of Jason's life, he had never seen Jor-El anything but confident to the point of disdain for any who questioned him. His grandfather, it seemed, always know it all, was unsurprised by any and all events. This reaction was entirely unprecedented. Jason's heart plummeted, his own features growing grave. _This is gonna be bad._


	49. Devil Take The Hindmost

First chapter back since the SMFAs and I'm really hoping this chapter is worthy of the honors we were give. After the sheerly insane amount of awards we were given (16! Pardon me while I'm STILL in shock! I love you guys!) Then once you're finished, brace yourself. We're quite literally a few chapters off closing this guy out. As in, closed out before the middle of October on our current schedule.

And you know what means. *evil grin* Be ready for anything. ;)

* * *

_You think you have the odds,_

_You think you're in control,_

_You think you've fixed the dice, _

_Well, I will gladly roll._

_I'll bet against the house_

_I'll even double-down…_

_ ~**Andrew Lloyd Webber**, 'Devil Take The Hindmost'_

* * *

The ill wind that had been building now blew eastward, Lana not having any choice but to call the family with an update. And the redhead hated that this was the news she had to bring, but they had already held off long enough. Those closest to them had a right to know.

It was Martha who answered the phone in Smallville, her relieved smile dimming once Lana began to speak. She stood there without a word, listening gravely while Ben watched the expression on her face go from interest to concern, anger to sorrow. Martha's voice was quiet, almost deliberately so, when she finally spoke. "No, Lana, it's all right. You did the right thing. I'll tell the others. Stay safe, the three of you. Please. I'll say a little prayer. Call us later." After one last word from Lana, his wife placed the phone back in its cradle, closing her eyes for a long moment. It was clearly to steady herself against what she had heard.

Ben could hear Lucy and Loueen talking in the living room, their voices soft. He hadn't heard Lana's side of the conversation, but the look in Martha's eyes when she looked to him told him it was almost as bad as it could be. And this with his granddaughter still missing. Ben had never been so worried for Clark and his family since he'd known them. Drawing Martha into the circle of his arms, he held her close, letting her lean her forehead against his shoulder. He rubbed her back, giving her time; after all the years he'd known her, and the decade of their marriage, Ben knew when words weren't necessary. Instead he offered her his strength and support.

Several silent moment slipped by before Martha drew away with a sigh. "I need to talk to the girls."

"I'll be right beside you," he told her, and they walked into the living room with his arm around her waist. Ben could feel her taking a deep, deep breath as Lucy and Loueen looked up at them. He didn't need to know exactly what Martha had just heard to know that what she was about to tell them both was going to hurt.

…

"What the hell? Pizza _again_? Geez, Tobe, I'm starting to think you don't know how to cook!"

"Shut it, Blondie," the dark-haired woman snapped at Cat, but Jamie was already chuckling along with her. Tobie glared at them both as she hung up the phone with the pizza place. "I _do_ know how to cook, I just don't feel like cooking for you freeloaders."

"Yeah, sure," Jamie teased from the living room, leaning forward to look into the kitchen. "That's why I've never actually seen you cook in all these years, huh?"

That just prompted a snide look from her step-mother. The little turn-coat _would _have to bring that up. "Oh, I wouldn't cook for your picky little self anyway. You were that kid who wouldn't touch a sandwich if the crusts weren't cut off and the ratio of mayonnaise and mustard wasn't exactly right."

Jamie returned the arch look with exaggerated dignity. "Mustard and mayo ratio is very important. Especially when you're ten and your mom's girlfriend burns a pot of Campbell's."

That earned the girl a _very_ frosty look. She certainly wasn't improving her lot this evening.

It was enough to provoke an unguarded snort of amusement from Cat, the blonde leaning against the kitchen counter before fixing her old friend with an affectionate smile. "Oh, c'mon, Tobie, we have to give you hell. You know Lois would do the same – and she can't even boil water."

The moment the quip was out, the three went silent. All of them were worried about the Lane-Kents, and especially Lois. Cat and Tobie had known their fellow reporter long enough not to have any illusions about Lois' ability to be cautious when her kids were in danger.

The uncomfortable silence stretched out until Jamie commented with somewhat forced laughter, "Yeah, well, Lois does make some pretty insane desserts."

"And eats them," Cat responded immediately, casting the younger woman a grateful look. "I've seen that woman put away a whole pie by herself more than once, and she's never gained an ounce. She stresses out, she loses a dress size. It's crazy."

"I've been telling you for years that she's got to be harboring the biggest tapeworm in Metropolis," Tobie cut in, trying to tell herself that they weren't whistling in the dark. "Besides, you're one to talk. You're not far behind, Cat. Remember when your mom would send you care packages in college?"

That prompted a fond, reminiscent smile. "Oh, yeah, her oatmeal raisin cookies – but they're good for you."

"So good you ate 'em for breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Tobie was smirking at her, tone droll.

Jamie shook her head, unable to help a chuckle. The tales her aunts spilled when they were together never failed to amuse her. "You guys always devolve into the nostalgia thing after a while. I have to say, I think I'm glad I didn't know you when you were in college."

Tobie was finally grinning, remembering just a few of their crazier antics. "You're damn right you're glad. We were the Three Bitches of the Apocalypse."

A sudden loud crash from down the hall brought their laughter to an abrupt end, all three freezing in their seats. No one said a word as they traded apprehensive looks. The sound had come from Maggie's study. But before any of them could make a move to check on the situation, Maggie herself appeared in the kitchen, her eyes cold enough to burn. Tobie was the first to speak, trying to read her face. "What's wrong, hon?"

"Sit down." Maggie's voice was uncharacteristically harsh, doing nothing to relieve their anxiety. When the three women just stared at her, she growled, "Cat, Tobie, sit the hell down, _now_. I've got news you won't be able to hear standing up."

That was enough to get them moving, Cat dragging up a couple chairs from the breakfast nook while Maggie was pulling a bottle of scotch down from the cabinet and poured herself a shot. All eyes on her now, she took an instant to bolt down the liquor before speaking. "Giselle's dead."

Jamie flinched, the two journalists winced. That was unexpected, totally justifying Maggie's reaction. "Aw, shit," Tobie sighed. That was going to seriously screw any of the inside information Maggie was hoping to get on Luthor. Which was going to put a serious damper on helping Big Blue or Lois find out his exact location. Damned if the bastard didn't have the best luck in the world.

"That fucker has someone _in my jail_," Maggie was snarling, pouring another shot. Tobie got up to grab glasses for herself and Jamie, snagging a can of ginger ale for Cat so she'd have something to sip. Meanwhile Maggie continued, her voice low and threaded thickly with her outrage, "The coroner's office hasn't figured out what killed her yet, but it's not accidental. I know it's not. Luthor got to one of my people, somehow."

"That might not be the case. Mom, it could've been one of the other inmates," Jamie tentatively ventured, not wanting to believe it.

Maggie's expression didn't change, the fire still in her eyes. "She was strictly sequestered. I did _everything_ but hold her friggin' hand while she was in my jail, and he still got her somehow, killed her right under my nose. But that's not the worst news."

She poured another round and drank it like it had personally offended her. With the strong liquor burning its way down her throat, she barely managed to say the rest. "Lois has been shot."

As an officer of the law, Maggie had trained her mind to observe and recall, taking in scenes like snapshots that were indelibly imprinted on her analytical mind. But after all these years, she had many things she wished to forget, and the expressions on the faces of her friends and daughter at the moment were among them.

Jamie was still young enough to be shocked that someone so close to her could be hurt so badly, especially after the earlier attack on Lana. Cat and Tobie looked as if they would be physically ill, wounded as badly as Lois herself. Maggie felt as though she'd punched them both with those words, hating the way the blonde's mouth pulled down at the corners and the gathering moisture in the normally-stoic brunette's eyes.

Despite that, Tobie, a cop's wife and a born survivor, was the first to recover wits enough to speak, though her voice was rough with emotion she couldn't quite conceal. "How bad is Lane?"

"She's in the ICU in Las Vegas." Maggie's voice was monotone, keeping grief and rage at bay. "He shot her twice – she was in surgery for hours. They think if she gets through the next day or so without further complications, there's a good chance, but no one really knows at this point…"

The four women blindly reached for each other's hands, holding on tight as Maggie continued to speak.

…

"My son," Jor-El began, and faltered. Kal-El could hear Jason's heart rate picking up, and willed the boy to silence. This was the first time he'd ever seen Jor-El hesitant. Telling him about the twins had short-circuited the AI's programming, but not even then had the hologram been so bereft of his usual certainty.

Kal-El took a deep breath, but didn't take his eyes off of Jor-El. "Father, please."

"What is it you require of me, my son?" Jor-El finally said. "For if I were to tell you all I know of Dru-Zod, we would be ensconced here in the Fortress for many days, and you cannot afford the delay."

That was a bit startling. "You knew him well?"

Jor-El sighed. "We were well acquainted. In fact, we were friends. I know Dru-Zod perhaps better than his supporters did, and that is why I fear for Kala."

Jason started to move, and Kal-El motioned him back. There was more to tell. "Father, how did this friend come to swear vengeance upon you?"

"When the extent of his villainy was exposed to the Council, he and his two staunchest supporters were condemned to the Phantom Zone, which I had discovered. That was considered so dire a sentence that only a unanimous vote could confer it. I was the last to vote, and he held me personally responsible for his fate."

Jor-El seemed lost in memory. "It is ironic that Dru-Zod often said he must put principles above personal feelings. He justified many atrocities with that excuse. Yet when I did the same, condemning him who had been my friend and confidant, who had interceded with the Council on my behalf, who had kept secret those aspects of my research that were forbidden, he was outraged.

"I had to agree with the Council that he was unredeemable, a clear and persistent risk to the stability of our society as long as he remained alive on Krypton. I knew him better than they. I knew that if he was convinced that only his absolute rulership could save our planet, he would stop at nothing to attain that goal. In that, we were agreed – that Krypton's present course could only end in destruction. We differed in that he believed it was worth spending the lives of tens of thousands of our people in violent civil war to spare the rest from the doom our folly had bought us. I … I did not believe that slaughter would beget safety, nor that dictatorship would bring us peace and prosperity. He was not the sort to release his hold upon authority when his purpose was served, as I well knew.

"Worse, to prove my own loyalty to their cause in light of my troubles with them in the past, certain members of the Council strongly suggested that I present the case against General Zod. So to him, it seemed as though I alone accused him before the Council, I alone brought the charges against him, and when the rest had tendered their vote and removed their holographic countenances from the Council chamber, I alone passed judgment upon him. No wonder, then, that with so many years in the Phantom Zone to whet his fury, he has waxed diabolical in his madness."

Silence fell upon the Fortress. Kal-El could feel these new revelations sinking into his consciousness, through the layers of love and duty wrapped tightly around the core of rage, fear, and grief. He could not summon the anger for a sharp retort about how it would have been good to know this earlier. All he cared about, right now, was getting Kala back so he could return with her to Lois' side.

"Father, I am grateful for your honesty," he began. "And I appreciate that your knowledge of General Zod's personality will be an asset in the coming battle. Can you tell us what to expect from him?"

"Having once sworn vengeance against my heirs, he will never renounce that oath to make common cause with you or yours," Jor-El told him wearily. "He might appear to do so for a time, but in the end Dru-Zod serves only himself. And that, my son, is what you should fear most: that Kala has been persuaded to ally with him."

…

"The employee stock purchase took another three percent." Jimmy pushed the latest report across the table to Ron, all of them holed up in Perry's office. As always in a crisis, the EIC was the ground-central war-room.

Laurel turned back to the three men after snapping her phone closed on her conversation with Kay, making her way back to her seat. It was impossible to remember another time she'd been this keyed-up. "All right, that's in place. We're tapped out, but as of right now Lana's a majority shareholder. My girlfriend is having kittens, but it's done."

"Well, it's not like Lana didn't approve it. I'll send her a case of antacid when this is over," the old man said with a harrumph, rolling his eyes. Then he was all work again, frowning as he pursued the latest figures. "All told, that brings us to…" Before he could finished the comment, his phone rang for what seemed like the millionth time that day. "Goddammit. Laurel, tell 'em we're busy."

Lois' secretary threaded her way through the crowded office to pick up the phone. "Perry White's office… Hello, Lana! What news?" She paused for a long moment, frowning. "Sure, he's right here; I'll put him on. Perry, she wants to speak to you."

"Probably gonna tell me to move Fashion up to the front page, now that she's officially a majority shareholder," Perry groused as he went to the phone. Ron and Jimmy waited, watching their boss. They'd heard enough of his bluster over the years to know when he was actually complaining, and when he was bluffing because something really worried him.

The two men watched Perry as he listened. After a moment he pressed one hand against the edge of the desk and leaned heavily on it. In that moment, the lines of his face seemed as deeply graven as the ones on the stylized ram's head sculpture on the side of the building outside his window.

Laurel came to stand by Ron and Jimmy, and the three exchanged worried glances. After an interminable silence, Perry finally said sternly, "Of course I'm all right. When Lois wakes up, tell her I said she's only got two weeks of sick leave and she'd better get her tail back to this office as soon as she can."

Shortly after that, he hung up the phone and strode back to his chair, his spine ram-rod straight. It didn't take a genius to know that Perry was trying to digest coming a little too big for him. It only took a glance at his face if you knew him. "Chief, what happened to Lois?" Jimmy asked, jumping in with the question all of them were thinking.

Perry's answer was slow in coming, and even then, he was trying for his usual gruff tone and not quite making it. "She got into a shootout with Luthor and caught a bullet or two."

No one had seen that coming, despite the danger they had all known that Kala's rescuers were walking into. And Lois had been the least one that they would have suspected. The younger three exchanged stunned looks. It was Laurel who finally asked, "Mr. White, is she going to be all right?"

That seemed to rouse Perry again, and this time he sounded like his old self. "Lois? Hell, you all know her. She's the toughest person I ever hired. It'll take more than a couple wingshots to keep her down. If we're lucky she plugged that sonofabitch Luthor before he shot her. No, you mark my words, Lois will be fine."

None of them needed him to say _she has to be_. They all heard it in his voice. But before anyone could offer a little comfort to him – Lois was his protégé, his star reporter, practically his daughter, and that news had to have struck him to the core no matter what he said – Perry snapped, "What're we all standing around for? Olsen, aren't you supposed to be calling the offsite employees? Troupe, weren't you emailing that investor? Hop to it, people, let's make sure Lane's got a newspaper to come back to."

…

This enforced holiday had its upside, Lucy thought as she and Loueen compared notes on Michelle's and Bryan's pre-Christmas report cards. It had been a while since this much of the family had been able to spend so much time together in one place. As long as you didn't think really hard about the reasons for them being here, she had to admit that it was good for all of them to bond a little more. Maybe once Kala was home it would be a good idea to take a long vacation and come out here for a while. Kansas was a net exporter of peace and quiet, anyway. Even Perry couldn't disagree that they could all use a little more of that in their lives. Especially not after this.

The two women were lamenting the unfairness of teachers being forced to teach twice their usual class load and the lack of time for one-on-one with their students when Lucy noticed movement in the hall behind Loueen. Martha stepped quietly into the room, Ben by her side, and they looked to her. A chill ran down the blonde's spine at the expression on the older woman's face. _Oh God, now what? What next? I don't know if I can take much more._

"Ladies … Lucy, dear … I have some bad news…" As Martha took a seat and reached for their hands, the chill became a frost over her heart. Just the foreboding made it hard to breathe. All of them had already been through so much. Struggling to force the fear away, Lucy wanted to get up and run, just go tearing out of the house and flee across the fields rather than hear what was coming.

But she didn't. She couldn't. This was her family and she would be strong. Her mother hadn't raised a coward in either one of her children. They would deal with the setback and move forward. Squaring her shoulders, Lucy braced herself. She would bear whatever she had to for her family. But this was beyond what she had imagined.

Her heart dropped straight through her stomach and down through the floorboards as Martha spoke. Her big sister – inimitable, invincible Lois – had finally fallen, severely wounded by close-range gunshots. Lucy sat perfectly still, unable to move, unable to close her ears to the words. _She's alive, that's all that matters, _shetoldherself firmly, giving herself no time to panic. _ Everyone's still alive. No one's… I can't even think it. They'll all make it out in one piece. They have to. Why can't Superman just find Kala? Why can't they just get home?_

Worst of all, Martha was continuing on to tell them that Clark and Jason were now actively helping Superman, all three physically searching the desert for Kala. Lucy had to choke back a sob; if her fiery sister had been hurt, then why were her adorable klutz of a brother-in-law and her gentle good-natured nephew out there still? Shouldn't they be safe in the hospital with Lois? Why did Superman need _their_ help?

_Because there's no other help for him but them,_ she knew. They'd seen the news, late at night, after the kids had gone to sleep. The entire Justice League of America had their hands full at the moment, a wave of chaos and crime sweeping through the country. Yet Superman was battling the spider at the center of the web, his own personal nemesis, and at the same time trying to save an old friend's daughter.

_Who am I kidding?_ Lucy thought with a slight sniffle, as Martha told Loueen that the protections on the family back in Metropolis had been increased. _I know she loved him. He had to love her back. But Lois chose reality over the fantasy, the one time the world's biggest closet romantic actually walked away from a fairytale for the good man who'd been waiting for her, for being a wife and a mother instead of a hero's beloved. And I love her even more for it. She and Clark are __**good**__ together._

Lucy cleared her throat and sat up straighter. Lois had to live – for Clark as well as the rest of the family. Clark and Jason had to find Kala and come back safely. No Lane girl worth her name would accept anything less from fate. So it was time to stop sniveling and start making plans for when the family was reunited.

_When_, not if. She wouldn't allow anyone, not even herself, to demean the heroic effort being made by assuming that Clark and Jason wouldn't succeed. And by the determination in Martha's eyes, the older woman agreed wholeheartedly.

…

Zod was about to leave the facility, something he had never before attempted. He had several important key factors in his favor: the security staff were disgruntled by the lockdown, lax in the absence of their leader, and unaware of the extent of his powers. That should make this comparatively simple.

He allowed enough time for Mercy to be well and truly gone. The elevator opened into a natural cave on the edge of a plateau in the surrounding foothills, or so he'd overheard. Emergency supplies and an all-terrain vehicle were hidden in the same cavern, enough to get one or two people back down to the offsite storage facility on the plain. Mercy would have taken the ATV, which was rigged to disguise the tracks of its own tires, and to the simple minds of the security staff, that would leave them all stuck here, so guarding the elevator wasn't a priority.

Using the vehicle had not been a part of his plans, but they wouldn't think of that. He strode casually toward his goal, looking indolent while sharply cataloguing the number of guards around and their state of readiness. All looked well.

When he opened the door and stepped into the elevator shaft, only four men awaited him, and they were lounging at their ease. They leapt to their feet in confusion, hands going to their weapons. Zod looked at them scathingly. "Is this how you defend us? Little wonder that it is so necessary for me to go above and scout, then."

The four looked at each other before one of them asked, "Did Mercy tell you to follow her out?"

Zod let his flat stare rest on the man for several uncomfortable seconds. "No, she did not. I have just spoken to Luthor himself. Now stand aside; I am in no mood for your trifling questions."

They scurried out of his way like the vermin they were, and Zod boarded the elevator. Its walls were of metal bars, and the floor of heavy metal mesh, so that nothing could be concealed within it. As the device began to winch him upwards, Zod cast one last scornful look upon the guards. "Were I you, I would be more vigilant. Ms. Graves may not return this day, but we do not know when the son of Jor-El will arrive."

Their panicky expressions told him his deception was perfect, and Zod allowed himself a slight smile. _And Luthor wonders why I am contemptuous of his entire race. True, a fraction of them may display a flicker of brilliance from time to time, but most are as easily driven as those fools._

He was careful – so very careful – when he arrived at the top of the elevator. The space was dark and close, warmth radiating in from the desert heat outside. Zod let his hearing guide him at first, making absolutely certain no one was around. All he could hear was the restless soughing of the wind and the faint ticking of grains of sand against the camouflaged door.

Stepping outside and quickly closing the door, Zod found himself beneath an overhand of rock, looking out onto a plateau. Beyond were the mountains, a forbidding landscape that nonetheless appealed to him. These were much like Kryptonian mountains, austere and stern, a welcome contrast to the insectile crowding of the cities in this world and the dull tawny expanse of its croplands.

From the outside, the door was invisible, shaded by the rock overhand and painted to match the stone. Zod strolled forward, surveying this kingdom of stone, sand … and _sun_. He had forgotten the impact of the yellow sun in the last year of captivity, and tilted his head back to drink it in with every pore. Those lights in his quarters below were but the palest imitation, water after wine, and this, _this_ was glory and power and life itself beating down on him…

He couldn't resist, and never mind that his powers were as yet untested. Zod leaped … and soared upward, rising above the mountains, passing through the cloud layer, and finally breaking into the thinnest atmosphere that would still allow him to breathe. The sun's rays were far stronger here, and he hung suspended in midair, careless of his enemies both flying and earthbound, absorbed by and absorbing the light.

For the first time in years, he felt like himself again, like General Zod, a true son of Krypton, a demigod upon this half-savage planet. But he could not savor the return of his full powers; he had information to gather.

Taking a deep breath, Zod soared upward, until the world below resembled the topographic maps he'd seen. The view was slightly distorted by the curvature of the planet's surface, but this landscape was easy to read: mountains, deserts, and roads snaking across both.

The roads all converged to the east, in a bright tangle of reflecting glass and neon that could only be Las Vegas. Zod turned that way and soared, alert now to the possible presence of his enemies.

…

The giant floating head was implying that Kala had _chosen _to ally with Zod. Jason couldn't hold back after a remark like that. "Kal would _never_. She knows who he is, she knows he tried to kill Dad, she would never in a million years…"

The AI interrupted before Kal-El could. "He is charming, charismatic, and has a gift for intuiting one's deepest desires. Kala is susceptible to flattery. We must assume that she has been swayed…"

The boy was unwilling to give any ground. "No, you're wrong, Grandfather. You don't know Kala the way I do. She is far from stupid."

Jor-El interrupted him, but his voice had none of the caustic edge Kal-El expected to hear. If anything, he sounded weary. "I do not disagree. She is, however, vain, ambitious, and somewhat narcissistic. Qualities which I see more objectively than do you, Jon-El, for she is your twin and you will suffer no insult upon her."

The boy's mouth dropped open, but it was a statement of fact he couldn't argue. As little as he wanted to admit it, the AI was right. He _wanted_ to defend Kala. Unfortunately, everything Jor-El said was at least a little true. Even Jason had to admit that anyone who listed 'rock star' under 'future plans' on school forms was a bit hung up on herself. Kal-El saw the struggle in his son's eyes and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "All of us have our flaws, son," he murmured, noting the scowl of displeasure on Jason's face.

Still sounding aggrieved, Jor-El continued, "It is particularly unfortunate that Kala shares those same traits with Dru-Zod. He will find her particularly malleable. Already he will seem preferable to Luthor due to her personal experience with the latter. All he needs do to secure her cooperation is to convince her that they are both striving against Luthor, and remind her of their shared Kryptonian heritage. She thirsts for validation of her image of herself as the Last Daughter of Krypton."

Now that just tore it. Jason shook off his father's hand, bristling. Unconsciously he switched to Kryptonese to make his argument. "And if Kala is so vulnerable, then it is _your_ fault, Jor-El. You have always criticized her sharply when she fails to meet your standards, and when she succeeds your praise is never more than faint. If she desires so deeply to have her place in this family acknowledged, _you_ have created that need by implicitly withholding the acknowledgment she craves."

The vehemence in Jason's voice had Kal-El staring at his son with astonishment. The past few days had brought out a much steelier side of his quiet, gentle boy, a depth of determination previously unsuspected. He reminded himself that, superficial resemblances aside, Jason was as much Lois' son as his own, and the defiant glare in his eyes now certainly came from his mother just as his more usual conciliatory demeanor came from Kal-El himself.

Jor-El had paused, ostensibly considering his grandson's outburst before speaking again. "Do you believe, son of my son, that I had no sound reason for treating with your sister as I have?"

Jason gave no ground, in expression or tone. "I believe that you dismiss her because she is female – because you are more concerned with training the son of your son to take upon himself your grand mission than you are with teaching your granddaughter, who is the better scholar. I think you see too much of our human mother in Kala, and disparage her for that as you have always scorned our mother."

The hologram stared down at him in clear surprise before answering. "You are quite incorrect, Jon-El. While it is true that Kala applies herself to her studies more stringently than you do, I have not withheld training from her for those reasons you named. _She is not ready_. Until she understands that the mission is more a yoke than a pedestal, she should not proceed further. You have always understood the difference. You accept your place in this world with humility instead of pride, and undertake your studies as a duty, not an escape. She cannot yet do so."

That put an interesting spin on things. Kal-El had tried to intercede on Kala's behalf in the past, but had never been able to convince the AI to step up her training to Jason's pace. Nor had he ever gotten an explanation. Apparently only the direst straits could make Jor-El speak this bluntly. "Father, I wish you had shared your reasoning with me prior to this crisis."

"My son, you yourself are nearly as guilty as your son of seeing Kala as you wish her to be. You are too willing to excuse her flaws, seeing in her the same defiant spirit you love in her mother. Yet you have told me that Lois Lane struggled against adversity in her youth; it is that striving that wears selfish stubbornness down to honorable determination. And wishing to show her the adoration Lois never received from her own father, you do not give Kala anything against which to strive."

That silenced Kal-El. Even Lois had accused him of spoiling her, in the same fight where he'd told her she was too hard on Kala. But it _was_ true that many of the things he loved about Lois – her spirit, her courage, her determination, her patent inability to ever give up once she was dedicated to a person or a cause – came from fighting with her father for so many years. He'd tried to spare Kala the negative aspects of such an upbringing that he wished Lois didn't have to suffer – the insecurity, the inability to ask for help, the manic drive for success at any cost, even her own health. Had he been helping Kala, or hindering her? Providing a refuge from the strife with Lois, or just creating more conflict by being too permissive?

Jason must have seen the disturbed look on his face, because the boy put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him. When his father looked over at him, the look his son gave him made his position on things clear. "Don't do it to yourself. You're a great dad. Kala and I are lucky to have you, and we know it. But nobody's _perfect_, Dad. Not even you. Not even _him_." Then his glare returned to the hologram. "What matters is that we know you love us and you're trying to do right by us, always. If Kala would stop being a drama queen for five minutes she'd realize the same goes for Mom. But I guess Jor-El's right in that kids have to struggle against something, and Kala sort of picked Mom. Or Mom picked her. I dunno, but they have issues I think they can only work out with each other."

Jor-El seemed to take that, choosing not pursue that avenue of discussion beyond a final statement of, "I have little understanding of the intricacies of the relationship between mother and daughter." That said, he switched back to their original topic without further deviation, "What I do know, of Dru-Zod and his plans, I must impart to you before you confront him."

Kal-El nodded then, forcing away any doubts and worries he had about anything else. Nothing mattered at this point beyond getting his daughter back amongst them and his family together once again. There was no more time to waste. "Then please speak, Father. Tell us what we face."

…

Zod was keenly conscious of time. It had taken too much time to locate this hospital; unconsciously, he had sought for the serenity of Kryptonian halls of healing. Eventually he'd discovered the bustling hive of barely-ordered chaos that was the city's trauma center.

There, at last, he was lucky. The wing of the building he scanned (from more than a mile above it) contained the woman he searched for. He would never forget that face, considering she'd been a part of his defeat. Once he'd located Lois Lane, Zod listened to the conversations around her.

The voices were guarded, speaking of physical therapy, long recovery, and potential side effects. That gave him what he needed to know; she would likely live, but would not recover her full health for a long time. Very well, then. There were many accidents that could befall an ailing woman.

With that, he turned from the city and soared again, a mere speck in the sky to any eyes but a Kryptonian's. Surely he had time enough to keep watch for his foe, and to soak up just a little more sun, before returning to the compound.

…

With Mercy's sharp words stinging his pride, Luthor decided it was long past time to bring the General back into line. If that arrogant alien wanted to make threats, then he'd get what was coming to him. Luthor walked quickly and quietly down to the lab, where he soon found a large enough piece of kryptonite to serve his needs. He'd been stockpiling the stuff for years, multiplying his horde with the crystal replication technology.

The piece he chose was almost as long as his forearm, but narrow, a single perfect crystal. It practically radiated menace as Luthor slipped it up his coat sleeve. Let Zod try to shrug _this_ off.

He trotted cheerfully down to the security monitoring station, finding it empty except for one man. It was enough to give him pause. That wasn't good; there were supposed to be at least three here at all times, watching the various goings-on at the facility. After the sole remaining watcher summoned his assigned fellows for a scathing dressing-down, Luthor insisted that they track down the General.

To his outrage, they didn't need to look through the video feeds. Zod had _left_ half an hour ago! Luthor sent men to canvas the area, but Zod was gone. He'd left no tracks in the shifting sand, and they couldn't see him even with the infrared scopes. He was just _gone_.

Luthor ground his teeth, his fury leashed with no target and rising to a savage scalding boil. As his anger seethed against itself, seeking an outlet, he flashed back to everything that had contributed to his rage. Failing to subdue Lois, being chased by the boy, the father and the son escaping his trap, and getting scolded by Zod, infuriating supercilious sanctimonious _Zod_, who dared to tell _him_ what to do…

And all of a sudden he had his wrath under control again, icy calm as the perfect vengeance presented itself. _You shall not touch her_, Zod had proclaimed. What better way to teach the General his place than to deliver his punishment to the girl. She was very nearly superfluous now; if she died of kryptonite radiation, well, that was the fate of the weak: to die at the hands of the strong.

Smiling, Luthor sauntered toward Kala's room, the kryptonite still concealed in his sleeve.

* * *

_All the rules,_

_Rearranged._

_Fate has redesigned those…_


	50. To the Rhythm of the War Drums

**Okay, all, here's this week's installment. I can't say more than enjoy these last minutes before the final storm unleashes itself for the family once and for all. The final confrontation begins at the start of the next chapter. This is it. In the end, we'll see who survives the aftermath.**

* * *

Richard held Lois' hand, warm and limp in his, and listened to the soft beeping of the monitors. If he wanted to, he could look over and see her heart rate, EKG, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. He didn't; it felt like too much information. He also didn't want to see the tubes snaking under the blanket or the bags of fluids and medicines hung on the pole beside the bed. What he wanted, more than anything, was for Lois to wake up and see him sitting there and curse him affectionately for being a maudlin pathetic bastard. And start the world back to making sense again. If Lois were awake and full of fire, he could believe that the other three would come back.

Her hand in his twitched slightly, and he could see her eyes move behind their pale lids. Richard watched, wondering what she was dreaming. After the first four or five times, he'd stopped hoping it meant she was waking up. The doctors had warned him that she could sleep for quite some time, and from personal experience he knew that when Lois was _really_ sick she slept like a stone.

Once, in their early days together, she'd come down with the flu. In typical Lois fashion, she fought it tooth and nail so the twins wouldn't see her sick, forcing her body to stay active with the help of a slew of over the counter medications. Richard had been there at her apartment when she'd finally collapsed from exhaustion and fever on getting in the door that Friday night – it was before they'd moved in together. He'd carried her to bed, dosed her up, and got the twins calmed and settled.

Of course it had been a long weekend; Lois had struggled with the virus all week, waiting until she had time off to succumb. He'd nursed her through the days and nights, bringing her medicine, feeding her broth, bathing her fevered skin with cool cloths. And managing the kids, of course, who worried about their mom but couldn't get too close while she was contagious. Flu was the last thing the twins needed, with their asthma and delicate constitutions.

Richard remembered lying beside Lois at night while she slept, listening to her breaths. He'd taken her hand then, too, so if she flung off the covers or shivered with chill he'd know, even if he managed to fall asleep. He remembered when the fever broke and she woke up, those lovely eyes finally clear of pain and confusion. He'd give almost anything to have a moment like that now.

Instead, his phone buzzed. He wasn't strictly supposed to have it on in here, but the nurses had whispered permission as long as he kept it very quiet. Lana and Elise were across the road, checking into the hotel there. Someone would be with Lois all the time, but the other two had to sleep sometime.

Never letting go of Lois' hand, Richard answered the phone quietly. It was Clark, who said without preamble, "We're going in. We learned everything we could from my father. This time, we're not coming back without Kala."

Richard swallowed the lump in his throat, and squeezed Lois' fingers slightly. All of them knew the possibility existed that Clark and Jason _wouldn't_ come back. But there was no thinking like that allowed in this family; everyone would come home. There was no other possible outcome. "Be careful," Richard warned, his voice choked in spite of himself.

"We'll try." The voice paused for a moment, the determined tone failing briefly when he spoke again. "Richard…"

The words never left Clark's lips. "Don't tell me to take care of her if you don't get back," Richard responded harshly, making his stand on this clear to his friend. "You're coming back. I managed to fob her off on you, fair and square, and there's no return policy. So you'd better come back here with both kids before your wife wakes up and starts cussing you out for being late." He rubbed his eyes angrily.

The message would obviously received, as Clark managed a laugh at that. "All right. Point taken. But Richard, I'm worried about Jason. Part of me says this is what he's been training for, this is what he wants – _needs_ – to do. And the other part says he's my son, I should lock him up here and keep him as far from the action as I can."

Richard sighed. He understood perfectly. Oh, Jason. The loving, gentle little boy, the one they all counted on to be the _good _twin, the one who was steady and calm whenever Kala had histrionics. It was hard to think of him facing Luthor, risking his life. But at the same time, who else?

…

Having palmed the kryptonite out of casual sight, Luthor pressed his hand against the access panel to Kala's room, and the door slid open obligingly. It was time to teach this insolent brat a thing or two about being a hostage. Just because he needed to keep her functioning didn't mean that the packaging had to stay pristine. Someone needed a reminder of just who was running this show. His teeth bared in a fierce smile, the bald man entered Kala's quarters. His eyes swept the room, wanting to locate Kala while she was still disoriented, wanting to see that broken look in her eyes again. _One down, three more to go. And soon. Come on, princess, Uncle Lex wants to have a little talk with you about the way we do things here._

Once he was standing in the middle of the room, Luthor realized something that just enraged him further.

She wasn't there.

Fuming, Luthor moved on to the suite's bathroom, but it was empty also. There were no other places to hide. His intended plans upset, Luthor growled under his breath. In a fine fury, he strode from the room with a now single-minded focus. The girl was going to pay for this. For just this kind of eventuality, the facility had conveniently located intercoms, and he took advantage of one of those to raise security. "Check the footage of camera 42 and tell me where the girl is," he snapped.

When the answer came back, it surprised him. "Sir, the sensors indicate that she's in the General's room." That was most definitely not the answer he had expected. With a curious frown Luthor clicked off the intercom, staring at the door across the hall. Hmm. Well, this was interesting. And could possibly have brought yet another weakness to light. It didn't matter where she was, quite honestly. In the end, it wouldn't change the end game. He stalked over and pressed his hand against the crystal panel, a cat-like smile crossing his lips now that he knew were the mouse had hidden.

It didn't light up, and the door didn't open. Twice thwarted, Luthor was losing his patience; he had allowed Zod a modicum of privacy, making sure that only Zod, Mercy, and himself had access to this room. But all the panels in the facility were programmed to admit Luthor, so why wasn't this one working?

Once again, he pressed his hand against it; once again, the panel still failed to light up. A tight rein on his building rage, Luthor stormed back to the intercom and called security again. "Run a diagnostic on the access panel for Zod's room."

A moment later, the intercom crackled with the answer. "Sir, our access to that panel is denied."

Enough dawdling. Luthor headed up to the security center himself to sort it out. He quickly discovered that Zod had somehow altered the programming of the crystal panel. Evidently the General knew more about the technology than he'd let on, and his 'adjustments' had somehow gone unnoticed until now.

Balked at every turn, one nemesis loose in the world, the other foe's child safe from him in his own lair, Luthor fumed quietly. This time, s_omeone_ would pay for this. And let the chips fall where they may.

…

Batman listened intently to the message Oracle was relaying to him. So Superman was asking to put a few of the team on standby – which was sensible of him. He still wanted to handle this himself, again for perfectly understandable reasons, but he knew that Luthor likely had some nasty tricks up his sleeve and wanted to go in prepared. And if it looked like Superman was winning, they all knew Luthor wouldn't hesitate to play all of them. Better to have potential backup waiting.

"He also asked if we could spare any personnel to keep watch on Las Vegas Medical's ICU," Oracle was saying, and only someone who knew Batman very well would have caught the wince within his silence.

Someone in Superman's family was badly hurt, that much was clear and Bruce couldn't help but wonder which it was. Not that there was a degree of difference in the outrage it would provoke. Blood relation had never been taken into account in Clark's family. It was little surprise that Luthor would apply his hatred for the Man of Steel to the more vulnerable members of his family. Those were the kinds of tactics that infuriated Batman, drove him into an icy rage that only ever stopped _just_ short of killing the perpetrator.

Knowing the Boy Scout, he was forcing himself to be noble and solemn as he prepared a counter-attack as well as the immediate rescue of his daughter, and feeling guilty because what he actually wanted to do, what any sane man would want to do in his place, was flash-fry Luthor with his heat vision, freeze the ashes into a solid mass, ball that up into something the size of a walnut, and throw it so hard it would achieve escape velocity.

All of that thought took place in an instant, even as Bruce spoke into the communicator. "Who volunteered for watch duty?" It went without saying that someone would; this was Superman they were talking about.

She gave him the code names for the Flash – and Wonder Woman. Interesting, that. Remembering his conversation with Lois before she and Clark had left for Nevada, he reasoned that this might just be the time to get things out in the open. In his own personal opinion, this had gone on for too long. Without another word, Bruce had made a beeline to corner Diana alone. Once he been sure that none of the others would observe the conservation, he had spoken to Diana, quietly, professionally, and without anything approached sarcasm or superiority in his voice. He could do that all too easily, be as clinically unemotional as was necessary at the time. And when he'd told her what he had observed, dissected the motives she kept concealed even from herself, he'd had to be that cold. The slightest hint of _any_ tone would have completely negated the usefulness of his advice.

The discussion could have been an incendiary level of bad. After all, not even the Dark Knight would walk up to Wonder Woman and tell her, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's husband." No, not a good idea at all. Might as well call her a harlot, and lift your chin for the punch that was going to carry you into orbit.

However, when he'd finished speaking, Diana had simply stared at him, blinked a few times, and then acknowledged his words with a silent nod of understanding. She wasn't the type to try rationalizing or excusing her behavior; she was strong enough to see she'd been wrong, admit it, and change. That was a rarer kind of courage than the sort that all of them used when facing insurmountable odds.

…

Zod knew better than to reenter the facility by the same point from which he'd exited. His absence had to have been noticed by now, and soon the vermin below ground were not the only foes he would face. He would be safer in the lab, and he had business there that needed concluding.

Hovering above the facility, Zod located one of the air shafts and plunged straight down it. The ventilation grill at the bottom clattered to the ground as the General landed on his feet in the corridor.

Once again, he'd surprised security, and the thugs patrolling the hall turned to him with comical expressions of surprise. "You fools," Zod snarled. "What I have done, the son of Jor-El could easily do. Set some of your number to guard all of the ventilation shafts. _Immediately_." With those words he strode past them.

Or tried to. One of the men moved to block him. "Luthor gave us kryptonite," he said, one hand already in his pocket.

Zod arched an eyebrow and sighed, conveying utter disdain. "Is that so? What a marvel. Let me assure you, it will be of no use to you against Kal-El if you are so slow to reveal it – and I strongly suggest that you do not warn _him_ that you are carrying it first." Once more, he tried to stalk past, and this time they didn't challenge him.

He proceeded to his rooms, keeping a brisk pace without giving the appearance of fear. Tension seethed in the air, and Zod knew the final fight was imminent. He could feel battle-readiness ghosting like electricity across his skin, feel his mind sharpening down to the pure crystalline brilliance of strategy and counter-strategy. At last, after laboring in secret for so long, he faced open warfare again. The knowledge was exhilarating.

One more task needed to be completed, and Zod moved to take care of it. He arrived at his rooms to find them silent, and for a moment he wondered if Kala Kal-El had inadvisably left. But then he saw her.

She must have been exhausted, and little wonder, considering the trials she'd faced over the past few days. Waiting for him to return must have weighed upon her until her only thought was of sleep. What else could explain her decision to curl up crosswise upon his bed, the blankets he'd left precisely aligned now huddled around her in a kind of nest?

Zod disliked any infringement of his personal space, but now was not the time to remark on it. Furthermore, her decision to fall asleep where she had spoke of exactly the kind of trust he meant to cultivate. He did not approach any closer than the doorway before calling her name.

Kala looked up at him blearily. "Dru-Zod? You were gone longer than I expected. Did you find out…?"

"I had to go further to find the answers I sought," he replied calmly. "Your mother lives, Kala Kal-El. She is in critical condition and her prognosis is uncertain, but as of this moment, she lives."

She blinked at him, and those too-wide eyes lit up. Perhaps he had not realized well enough the effects of her earlier confrontation with Luthor before his leave-taking. Something seemed to be off in her usual behavior. As he was pondering this and unsure of how to react, Kala was off the bed and running to him. Zod managed not to flinch when she flung her arms around him in an exuberant hug. He did stiffen slightly, and she quickly released him, rubbing at her eyes. "Thank you, Dru-Zod. I … I cannot express how relieved I am to know it. But how did you discover this?"

Zod shrugged gracefully. "Once outside the facility, it was simple to locate the hospital to which she had been taken. Simple, at least, because my power of flight has finally returned. I was able to hover long enough to ascertain her specific location and listen to the doctors as they discussed her case."

The way the girl stepped back and watched him spoke volumes as to her reaction upon this revelation. "You can fly? And you got _out_?"

Kala's tone warned that he was on dangerous ground just now, so Zod answered simply, "Yes."

Her eyes blazed, the fury in her flaring despite her state, and the girl switched back to English in the extremity of her anger. "And it never freaking occurred to you to take advantage of that? You could've gone right to my father and told him where I was! God, if you're Krypton's greatest strategist, no wonder the planet was doomed!"

In the face of this emotional outburst, Zod merely watched her, his expression cold and calm. In truth, it had not occurred to him to simply leave. Perhaps he had been too long a prisoner, to willingly walk back into this jail. Or perhaps he had too much unfinished business to take care of, all of it here. To realize such a thing about himself unnerved him, but he could not show that to the girl. He needed another reason to give her.

Fortunately he had them. "Firstly, Kala Kal-El, I have no reason to believe your father or brother would grant me a moment to speak before they attacked me with deadly force. And secondly, to do so would mean leaving you alone here even longer. Luthor is barred from entering these rooms, true, but he could dismantle the very walls given time and inclination. Let me assure you, he has the inclination."

That silenced her, and Kala looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion. Her mind had been subject to powerful emotions for the past few minutes, and she was showing the strain. To push her much further could mean a final fall into madness, he knew, despite the strength of her personality. Zod took a single step closer and softened his voice ever so slightly. "I would not leave you to him, Kala."

The proximity, the tone, and the familiar form of her name broke through the maelstrom of emotion that was tearing at her. A deep, shuddering breath escaped her as she struggled to regain any kind of ground she could have lost with her only ally. God, everything was so wrong. "You're right. I'm sorry." She scrubbed at her eyes again, trying to get herself under control. Finally switching back to Kryptonese, she asked, "What must we do now?"

"Luthor has commanded the security staff to carry kryptonite. We must neutralize this threat to your father. Further, Kryptonian tradition demands retribution for the attempt on your mother's life. Luthor must die." He paused, and she nodded, her eyes wide. She was following his meaning quite well, comprehension secure in the way she was nodding. Heartened, Zod continued, "Your father and brother will not slay him. The duty falls to you, as her child, to avenge her."

He watched as Kala swallowed, the assertion leaving her visibly shaken even as she agreed with this. "It is what she would do herself if she could, what she would want done. What she attempted to do to safe-guard our family. And you are correct, Father and Jason would never take a life." She faltered then, her hazel eyes again gaining that lost light, "I know what must be done. I understand that. But … I do not know if I have the strength any longer…"

Zod was a military man, and knew how to recruit soldiers, how to take an ordinary independent person and turn them into something that would die for him or kill on his orders. First they had to be broken down, as Kala was broken now, exhausted and heartsick and unsure of themselves.

And then they could be rebuilt, to his specifications. All that was necessary was to inject some structure into the chaos the recruit found themselves in, and let that structure guide and shape the person they were becoming. In this case, it was even easier than before, as he had only the one person to focus on, and the image he wished to remake her in was his own.

Zod, who abhorred touch and scrupulously avoided contact, offered her his hands, palms upward. "Then borrow of my strength, Kala Kal-El, and make it your own, for if we are to succeed and survive, we must rely upon each other."

Slowly, Kala nodded. She had been having nightmares of drowning again, of the cold saltwater invading her nose and throat after Luthor had shoved her off his kryptonite island. It had taken every ounce of her determination and courage not to break down crying for her parents to save her; being trapped here was a source of constant stress. Just to keep her mind intact was a daily battle, surrounded by enemies and powerless to stop Luthor from destroying her family.

Now, here was something she could do, someplace she could make a difference. To save them all from Luthor, to save herself and Dru-Zod too. The other Kryptonian was giving her exactly what she needed, offering her a hand to pull from the grasping waters of madness. Kala placed both hands in his, felt his steady grip curl around her fingers, and knew she was safe as long as she stayed by his side and followed his lead.

It felt like relief, not surrender, like carrying a heavy burden uphill only to have it lifted from her back by stronger hands. She sighed, feeling the tension in her shoulders finally relax. "And how shall we accomplish the death of our foe?" she asked, her eyes fixed on Dru-Zod's.

He smiled, only faintly, but his pride in her courage showed and renewed her own sense of purpose.

…

Elise had gone across the street with Mrs. White to check into the hotel, mostly because staying in the hospital room was starting to freak her out. It was just too weird to see Mrs. Lane-Kent lying there so still and small. Elise had never realized how the twins' mother was hardly bigger than a kid herself – Elise was probably an inch or two taller. But when Lois was standing with her arms crossed and her hazel eyes flashing fire, yelling her head off or maybe just teasing someone, she seemed ten feet tall. It was not a happy realization.

_I always knew this family was going to lead me straight down Crazy Boulevard,_ Elise thought. _They've always been too damn weird. And now here I am mixed up in the middle of __**this**__, and my parents are gonna freak out, and my boyfriend and my friend are still out there…_

Just as soon as the thoughts made themselves known, the girl felt guilty. She had been doing so well up to this point, had tried to take all of this in stride, and here she was blindly panicking. But honestly, how was she supposed to handle this? God, how did anyone handle it? How were Richard and Lana keeping sane while Lois lay in a hospital bed and Clark and Jason headed into danger? It was like the entire family was falling apart all around them and somehow they stayed so strong.

Lana had gotten the keys for the three rooms she'd asked for while Elise was lost in thought, and turned to say something to her. To no avail. The girl startled when she realized that the redhead had spoken, blushed when she realized she'd missed it entirely, but Lana was patient enough to repeat herself. "Since we're here, we might as well take some of the luggage up, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Elise said, and they headed out to the hospital garage with a luggage cart borrowed with the clerk's blessing. Between the two of them, they got most of the suitcases and bags back to the hotel and properly distributed among the rooms.

Elise and Jason, of course, had no luggage due to having snuck aboard the plane. That was quickly rectified as well – Lana got Elise's clothing sizes and called the concierge. Apparently politely-worded requests and a platinum card got you all kinds of perks. It took a bit to get used to Lana's casual generosity, Elise's conscience pricking her. "Thanks. You really didn't have to get me two new outfits."

The older woman smiled at her sadly. "They're not necessarily both for you. Kala wears the same size, and we don't know if she still has the clothes she packed. She'll likely need them when they get her back here."

It hurt to see how drawn Lana had become. Jason's family had taken so many hits in the past few days, the designer having to take over as the minder of the family for Lois and it was obvious the weight was growing heavier. But despite the pain, Richard and Lana had pushed on, with no special powers to help them on the journey. They were quiet for a moment before Elise swallowed and sat down heavily. Up until now, she had been in denial over how much danger Jason has wading into. But she couldn't afford to be any longer. She was fighting to keep her upset out of her voice when she asked, "How can you be so optimistic? The odds against them ever coming back…"

Lana cut her off with a note of severity in her voice. "Elise, the odds have been against Clark from the beginning. He escaped an exploded _planet_ while he was still an infant, and traveled through space to get here. Of all the places he could've landed, of all the people who could've taken him in, he wound up in the Kent's field. Imagine if the government had found him first – or someone like Lex Luthor."

That made Elise shiver. She'd never really thought of Superman as anything other than the ultimate good guy. But Lana wasn't done. "He survived, he came here, and he found exactly the right people to raise him so that he could be the man he is. And then he met Lois, fell in love with her, and in spite of being from separate galaxies managed to conceive the twins with her. And those twins, though they were frail when they were little, grew up to be healthy, reasonably well-adjusted people. Not only that, only a handful of people have discovered his secret, and with the exception of Luthor they're all people who care for him and will protect him. Clark's beaten long odds so many times, it's only reasonable to expect him to do it again."

"Yeah, but aren't you at all afraid? I mean, Jason's never done anything like this before and Mr. Kent's nearly been killed by Luthor before. I mean, look what he did to…" Elise tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes, the memory of Lois' wounds biting deep.

The redhead sat down across from her, and gave her a weary smile. "Of course I am. Elise, I've known Clark since we were children. And I love Kala and Jason as much as I do Kristin. I'm afraid for them, but I have faith in them, too."

Elise rubbed her eyes, feeling worn out and frazzled. "She promised to talk to me about, you know, about what it's like being in love with a hero. And how it can be tough, really tough, but it's worth it. And now…" She let the sentence trail off, her expression fraught.

"Now you'll be having those talks a little later than planned," Lana interjected, kneeling down in front of Elise. The poor girl really had no idea what she was walking into when she'd helped Jason come out here. It was a lot for someone to take in at a normal point in time; Lana could only imagine how mixed up the world must seem to her right now. And all because she still cared for her ex-boyfriend. "Elise, Lois is _tough_. She'll come through this. This isn't the worst she's been through and come out the other side. She's like a cat that way, always landing on her feet. Besides, I'm not an authority like Lois, but I do know a few things about loving a hero."

Elise felt her cheeks flush at that. She hadn't expected to be taken into that confidence by the source, but Jason had mentioned it once or twice. "I heard you and Mr. Kent were, um…"

Lana gave a quiet laugh, the nostalgic smile softening her exhaustion. "He had a massive crush. I was the head cheerleader, though, and fairly crush-worthy back in the day, if I do say so myself. Besides, I may not be his wife, but I do love Clark as my friend. And Richard may not wear a cape, but he's pretty heroic in his own right."

"So how do you _do_ this then?"

Sea-green eyes met hers steadily. "You have to truly love them, because they're going to leave you. Whether it's for a few hours or a few days, or forever, if you love a hero then you have to face the fact that they can't be who they are and turn their back on their duty. And that duty might get them killed. It's hard; Lois knows better than I do how hard it is. Sometimes you'll wonder how you got into this mess and why you put up with it. But Lois was right: it's worth it. If your love is strong and true, and you're willing to _work_ on a relationship instead of having everything handed to you on a silver platter, you'll be fine."

While Elise was digesting that, Lana leaned forward and took her hands gently. "We all hoped you'd be the one, Elise. And I hope you realize, whether you and Jason are meant to be or not, you'll always be welcome in this family. There are so few of us who know the truth, we have to look out for each other."

…

It was time. Everything that could be done to prepare had been done. Kal-El took a deep breath, and still he hesitated, looking up through the interlocking crystals of the Fortress. At this time of year the sky stayed dark most of the day, the sun only rising for a brief while. The stars above burned clear and cold, pitiless and eternal in their brilliance. Those stars were the inspiration for so many people, yet the stars themselves cared nothing for what their beauty called forth from the human imagination. The stars knew nothing of it, and simply went on shining.

There were times in Kal-El's life when he'd wished he could be like that, simply do what he was brought to this planet to do without caring about how his actions affected others. It would make his life so much _easier_, if he just followed the dictates of his mission. It wasn't his fault if people tried to emulate or rebel against him, any more than the stars were responsible for the songs written about them.

But it was his very nature to care about people, to worry if he was actually making the world a better place or just one that seemed better. That was what separated him from General Zod. Zod knew what was right, what was best – not believed, _knew_ – and he did those things. He did not allow himself to doubt or to count the cost and ask if it was worth it. And for a given value of rightness, he _was_ right. Even Jor-El agreed that if Zod's coup had succeeded, Krypton's people would have survived the explosion of their planet. Most of them, anyway. But was it really better to go down in a blaze of democratic glory, or to trickle away within a dictatorship?

It hadn't even been a question for Zod. Victory at any cost, no matter how many freedoms he had to destroy, how many lives he had to end. That was the kind of person Kala had been around for the last four days. Someone whose utter certainty was the most terrifying thing about him. And Kala had always been self-possessed, confident, _sure_. Zod could play upon those qualities easily, because they were his own.

_And now my son and I will fight him, the greatest of all Krypton's strategists, and we cannot even be certain that Kala will not fight against us,_ Kal-El thought, and his heart grieved. He didn't want to believe that Kala could turn on them, but Jor-El had cautioned him against that. Anyone could be manipulated.

"Dad?" Jason's quiet voice came from beside him, and Kal-El startled. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he had nearly forgotten the boy himself was so close by.

Then he smiled. _I would rather have my son at my side, with his determination to do right clouded by his doubts, than a thousand Zods certain of their righteous victory. Because Jason and I will not commit the same error as Zod will, and he doesn't understand our thinking, our worry, and he cannot plan for what we will or won't do._ He caught Jason's shoulder in a firm grip, not a father comforting his son, but one man to another. "Let's go," he said with renewed calm and surety.

Jason only nodded, and Kal-El pulled him close as he soared upward. They were both leaving behind the things they couldn't change – Luthor's potential retaliation, Lois' recovery – and doing the one thing they _could_ and _would_ finally do: rescue Kala.

Kal-El made a high pass over the patch of desert where they thought his lab was. His x-ray vision pierced the sand and rock. There was too much lead down there for him to see perfectly, but he _could_ make out straight lines, a sense of order in the chaos. That place was manmade, not natural. They'd found Luthor's lair.

They couldn't search for an entrance because Luthor would have it guarded. They couldn't try the ventilation shafts, because Luthor would have those guarded as well. Making their own entrance was uncertain – almost crazy – because they couldn't predict where they'd arrive.

But then, neither could Luthor. And he was expecting them to behave logically. The madman valued rationality, he wouldn't expect them to make such a potentially costly error. If they were going to succeed, they had to start by catching him off guard.

"Ready?" Kal-El said, hearing his son take a deep breath, and waited for Jason's nod before plunged directly downward toward the facility. His heat vision instantly vaporized the ground ahead of him, entering on a slanting trajectory and praying with all his considerable might that this time, luck would be with him.

* * *

_**Lay your head down, child**_  
_**I won't let the boogeyman come.**_  
_**Counting bodies like sheep**_  
_**To the rhythm of the war drums.**_

_**Pay no mind to the rabble,**_  
_**Pay no mind to the rabble.**_

_**Head down, go to sleep**_  
_**To the rhythm of the war drums...**_

~A Perfect Circle


	51. Approaching Zero

Well, we promised you a little more action this chapter. I think we delivered. You tell me. Just be prepared for what happens next.

* * *

_You know what must be done._ Zod's parting words to her were all the more chilling for the gentleness of his tone. It was as if he pitied her this, having to stain her hands with Luthor's blood. In truth, Kala had found that she _wanted_ vengeance. How dare Luthor harm Lana, one of the gentlest and most compassionate people on earth – and then her mother. Just the thought of Lois being harmed raised a towering cold fury in Kala, guilt over the way they'd last spoken fueling her rage. And if she didn't make it…

No, that was not a direction in which she could allow her thoughts to drift. There was no other likely outcome. Luthor couldn't win; as long as Mother had an ounce of strength in her body, no one would steal her life away from her, least of all someone like _him_. And that needed to be the end of those thoughts. Kala ruthlessly pushed any fear away, along with the weakness that chased it. She had no other choice but to focus on the task at hand. Luthor was presently in the security room, which she was sidling her way towards, movements as spare and soundless as she could make them. Zod was providing a distraction for her, upbraiding some of the security staff for their laxity. Luthor would want to move against him – and if Kala was stealthy enough, he wouldn't know the danger until it was too late.

One guard, around the corner up ahead, his breathing an easy giveaway of his location. Mind firmly focused on her task, the girl raced forward, only to freeze directly beneath one of the security cameras, huddling in the tiny spot that was out of its view. The man waited, apparently protecting the security room further up the hall. Kala couldn't hear anyone else between her and her goal; however, she kept her enhanced senses sharp. They were too close now for a mistake.

_Do not hesitate against your enemies_, Zod had said to her. But she did, a little thread of unease coiling through her. In some ways, despite the imminent threat to them both, her father's teachings ate at her. This man might have been one of the ones who'd pawed and threatened her, or he might be someone like Schecter, a basically decent guy in a bad situation. Did he too deserve to die? Did she have the right to make that choice about a man she may or may not have ever see before?

The answer was instantaneous. _No._

She could kill Luthor to avenge her family and herself, but she could not kill in cold blood just to remove an inconvenience. Events had yet to devolve to that level. Without another thought on it, Kala darted around the corner faster than any human eye could follow, slashing at the man's neck with the side of her hand. She'd learned the blow in karate class years ago, a good way to disable an opponent without permanent injury. He crumpled, an expression of surprise beginning to form on his features, and Kala caught him. A quick check of pulse told her that the blow hadn't been enhanced with enough of her strength to harm him seriously. Reassured, she let him slump to the ground and started to turn away.

And then thought better of it. Kala turned back to the goon – not one she recognized, she was rather glad to note when she looked closer at him – and rolled him over. There on his hip was what she wanted: a large pistol. Kala slipped it out of its holster, fumbled with it for a bit, and found the catch. The magazine slid out, and it was full. Kala put it back in place, found the safety and took it off, then jacked the slide, chambering a round. She had fired guns like this before, at the police firing range under Lois' supervision.

This thought brought a slow smile to Kala's lips, one no one amongst her family would have recognized. It was fitting that she would use skills learned from her mother, and a weapon much like her mother's, to slay her mother's enemy.

She had moved on then, almost to her goal and listening attentively for any potential interruptions, when realization struck: she couldn't hear Luthor's voice. Zod had said he was in the security room … what if he was wrong? A chill ran up her spine, one she refused to acknowledge. What if Luthor had moved since then?

Kala couldn't afford to second-guess herself. The time to move was now, or there might never be another chance. There would be no more chances taken with her family's lives. Someone had to end this. Raising her chin defiantly, Kala moved forward with renewed determination, her gun pointed upward, toward Luthor's death.

…

When Elise and Lana got back to the hospital room, Richard told them that Jason and Clark had left their information-finding mission and gone to get Kala. Elise's face went white, but Lana merely nodded, and closed her eyes for a moment. Richard knew she was praying for all of them.

He saw the girl's eyes go to his cell phone, which was hooked up to its charger and lying on the room's other chair. A guilty look crossed her face. "Just set it on the floor; no reason to waste seating space," he suggested. "There's been no real change yet. She's still sleeping."

"It's not that," Elise said slowly as she took the seat, carefully placing his phone to the right of the chair, near the wall. Richard let Lana have his chair, the redhead reaching out to take Lois' hand that Richard had let go, taking her turn at watch. Richard moved to lean against the wall, his blue gaze on the girl curious. After a moment, Elise finally spoke up with a sigh. "My phone battery's dead, because Jason and I didn't bring our chargers, and it looks like your phone takes the same charger…"

Richard nodded agreeably. "Sure, plug it in. Mine's got half a charge at least."

Elise still looked pained as she did so, and Lana was the one to guess why. That parental sixth-sense did come in handy every once in a while. "When did your battery run out, Elise?"

The expression on the girl's face told her that her intuition was right. "Yesterday," the girl mumbled. "Actually, yesterday afternoon. I realized it was dead while we were out, but you guys had cell phones and I wasn't really thinking about charging my phone under the circumstances." Remembering, Elise couldn't stop a wince.

Richard smacked his forehead into his palm. _Oh, crap. Not good. As if there's not __**already**__ going to be a lot of explaining to do. _"When was the last time you talked to your parents?"

"Yesterday morning," Elise told him bleakly. "I didn't even think of it again until I saw your phone there. I'm such a flake."

Lana gave the girl a gentle smile. "You are far from a flake, dear. With all that's been happening, I think all of us are justified in being a bit distracted. Don't worry. Once we get home, we'll help you smooth things over with your parents."

"They don't even know I went out of town," Elise groaned as she reached down for Richard's cell. Handing it to him, she plugged in her own. She turned her phone on, and once it established a signal it played a few seconds of music, which Elise quickly muted in deference to the fact that they were in the ICU. Even if the nurses had said they could use their phones, it was best to be discreet about it. Her wince on flipping it open spoke of fears fulfilled; her sigh, of their inevitability. "Oh, God, I _knew_ it. Twenty-three texts and five voicemails. So much for going to MIT now. I'll be grounded until I'm a legal adult."

"They're scared, hon. And I can't say that I blame them. I've been in their shoes the last few days. Go ahead and use my phone to call them. That way they're not already planning what to say before they even push 'Talk'." Richard tried to smile encouragingly, the lump in his stomach worsening at the memory of why his nerves were jangled at this moment, but Elise just looked miserable as she used his phone to dial.

He and Lana only heard half of the conversation, but it was enough. "Hi Mom… Yeah, I'm okay… No, I'm not. Listen… I know it's important, that's why I don't break curfew… Yeah, this was different. I'm okay, I'm safe, and this was _really_ important. Can I just explain? Please?" She sighed and leaned forward, bracing her forehead against one hand. Richard was about to take the phone from her and try silver-tongued sweet reason on her parents when she started speaking again. "I'm at Las Vegas Medical Center… _NO_, Mom, I'm _at_ the hospital, not _in_ the hospital, I told you I'm okay!" After another long pause, she snapped, "Mom, put Dad on the phone. Please."

Lana and Richard both watched her with pained worry as she spoke to her father. "Okay, Dad, just listen before you start yelling, okay? _Dad_. _Please_ just listen. Kala Kent ran away from home, and I was helping look for her… Yeah, Jason's sister. Yes, my ex-boyfriend Jason. I'm getting to the Las Vegas part, okay? Stop asking questions and just _listen_."

Richard waved a hand and mouthed 'our idea', and Elise nodded gratefully, giving both of them a harried look. "Right. Thank you, Dad. Anyway, her parents asked me to help, because I'm the last person she called before she ran away. Only she never made it to our house, because she got kidnapped. And then everything got really, really crazy, and I stayed with the Kents and the Whites because it was safer being with them than being alone at home."

Lana was nodding, and Richard gave Elise a thumb's-up. All seemed to be going well until the look of disbelief crossed her face, rolling her eyes before closing them. She sighed aggravatedly at her father's question. "No, I couldn't just go stay with Aunt Margie! Look, the Kents had police protection, I was safer there…" The look of annoyed disgust at what he obviously said next would have been laughable if the situation had been different. "_No_, it had nothing to do with Jason… Yeah, I _know_, Dad. I've heard more than I ever wanted to about Giselle. Only she wasn't really his girlfriend, she was a freakin' spy… No, I'm not making this up! I'm a writer, but I'm not _this_ good! Besides nobody'd believe this if it wasn't true!"

"Story of my life," Richard whispered to her, breaking the tension enough that Elise smiled at him gratefully and threw one hand in the air. "_Anyway_. Mr. White will back me up. He's right here. We're in Las Vegas Medical Center… Well, because Mrs. Kent got shot." Elise yanked the phone well away from her ear immediately after saying that, and Richard could clearly hear her father's startled bellow. "Dad. Dad… _Dad!_ Just relax, I was safe the whole time, I was with the Whites and not in the line of fire… No, Dad, it was a figure of speech. What? The twins' mom's a reporter, it's what she does… She was looking for Kala; the people who kidnapped her have a place out here. Which is where Mr. Kent and Jason are right now…"

Elise scoffed loudly. "Dad. I think we need a reality check here. Listen, this guy who kidnapped Kala? He's not playing around. I'm a whole lot safer right here, with cops outside the ICU, than I would be on a plane home. Think about the big picture. Do you really want them taking that kind of chance? You guys are supposed to be back the day after tomorrow anyway. I'll be fine until then. I promise I won't get in any more trouble… Dad, I have the Whites and a floor full of nurses supervising me. I'll be okay. Yes, I'm perfectly aware that I'll be a candidate for Medicare before I'm allowed out of the house. I had expected that. Yes, I'll keep the phone on now. The battery had died, that's all. I love you." She sighed long-sufferingly, rolling her eyes enough to make Richard chuckle.

…

Mercy drove past the hospital slowly, noticing two police cruisers parked out front. That boded ill. She parked at one of the casinos not far away, and took out her phone. Dialing, she asked the hospital operator for Lois Lane-Kent's condition. "Are you a member of the family?" the woman who answered replied.

"No, just a friend. I understand you can't give me details – HIPAA and all that. But you can tell me something, right?" She managed to put just the right note of pleading concern in her voice.

"Yes ma'am, we're only allowed to give you a one-word description. In this case it's critical. Now if you have the patient's PIN…"

"Thank you," Mercy said in tones of relief, and hung up. So the woman lived – she certainly had plenty of fight in her. And she was in critical condition, which meant she was in the ICU. That was one of the most secure locations in any hospital, but there were ways around any security.

Mercy looked over the buildings that comprised the hospital. It was expansive, every square inch projected wealth and quality. Just the kind of place that would have the absolute latest security features. This wouldn't be a simple matter of stealing a white coat from a laundry room and waltzing in…

Her phone flashed, shrilling, and Mercy picked it up. It was an automated text message from security headquarters: the facility had been breached. Swearing, she abandoned the hospital for the moment, and raced back to the desert.

Luthor's vengeance could wait. He needed her _now_.

…

When she finally hung up the phone, after more reassurances to both her parents that she was well-protected and that things would only be more complicated if they flew out here to the desert before this was over, Elise let out a discouraged groan and leaned forward to brace her head in her hands. "Okay, so I really could have planned this better. Or at least have made sure to keep the phone charged so they wouldn't know. So much for genius-level IQ. In the end, _grounded until senility_ will likely be for a month, and they'll probably never leave me home alone again," she said bleakly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. We'll talk to them," Lana tried to comfort her, reaching to touch her shoulder with her free hand.

The brunette looked back at her gratefully and heaved another sigh. "It's going to suck, no lie, but let's be realistic. Someone had to come out here with him; at least I knew how much trouble I was going to be in. With the way he was feeling before we left, Sebast would have gotten himself killed trying to fight for Kala, if he could have talked Jason into bringing him. No matter what the punishment is, it was worth it just to know where he was and what was happening."

"We probably should've sent you home – but I'm glad you're here and safe." Now it was Richard's turn to sigh. "And we _will_ try to reason with your parents once we're all back in Metropolis. It's not like you had a party or stayed over with some guy."

Elise gave a tired grin that also belied the worry that was starting to creep back in now that the most immediate task was done. "Yeah, Jason is a bit more than just 'some guy'."

Unwilling to see her start to fret again, Richard shot her a teasing smile. "Oh, don't worry, Elise. We won't tell your parents we left you two alone in a hotel room _all night_." As usual, the comment did just what he wanted it to: prompting an embarrassed grin from Jason's newly-reappointed girlfriend.

That was when Lana added in a quiet tone, "Or that you were almost shot or drowned." When Richard gave her a dubious look, she crossed her arms. "I don't lie, but I don't have to tell them the whole truth, either. It would just worry them. And we can't explain why Elise was ultimately safe without giving away the secret."

Richard found that he really couldn't argue with that. "It'll be okay," he tried to reassure Elise. "Trust me, I was that kid who drove my parents crazy. It's never as bad as you think it will be."

"Why am I not surprised?" Lana sighed.

Richard couldn't hold back a fond chuckle as he leaned forward to squeeze Lana's hand. "Ladies, I'm going to go get something from the cafeteria while they're still open. Want anything?"

"Just a salad. Later on we'll have to get real food." Lana looked to Elise, but the girl only shook her head, too bound up in her own thoughts now. With that, Richard headed out, passing through one security door and making a little small talk with the police officer stationed outside it. Anything to distract him from his trepidation for Clark and Jason, even now facing down unknown odds for the second time. From his fear for Kala and what she could have faced. And from the possibility that Lois would never open her eyes again, just sleep for the rest of her life. Now that one fire was put out, several more burned hotter.

The hospital layout was fairly straightforward, with the ICU waiting room just outside the actual ICU. Instead of a cramped little corner, it was spacious and open to the hallway, with plenty of cushy chairs and couches. Richard glanced in, wondering if those people were upset about not being allowed in. _Sometimes you just gotta have Superman pleading your case…_

And then his gaze lit on a dark-haired woman reading a magazine. That was enough to startle him out of his dark thoughts. She looked familiar, her bearing especially, but Richard couldn't place her. He paused for a second to get a better look, and she lifted her gaze from the magazine. Her blue eyes were inquiring, not a hint of recognition, and Richard smiled apologetically as if he'd thought she was someone else before walking on. _Don't let on you recognized her – no way do I want to explain to Clark that he accidentally gave away Wonder Woman's identity._ Richard allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he got into the elevator. At least he knew they were safe, with protection like _that_ in addition to the police. And with a sign like that, just maybe it was all going to work itself out just fine.

…

Laser vision seared a column down through the facility, vaporizing sand, stone, concrete, and lead shielding in an instant. Alarms began to go off, and pandemonium reigned. Security staff swarmed toward the intruders, but the slanting shaft had pierced multiple levels of the building. Kal-El and Jason wound up on the lowest floor, the older Kryptonian lifting his head. "I hear her," he said, his voice harsh with strangled relief.

Jason's heart gave a wild kick of sheer joy. For the last day or so, he'd been growing steadily more worried about Kala. Even as more immediate concerns pressed on him, in the back of his mind the thought that his twin was in danger continued to grow, gnawing at him. Now they were _finally_ here, finally coming to rescue her, and the relief was overwhelming.

Kal-El turned, trying to home in on the sound of Kala's heartbeat. The security people were holding back, fearful, and for the moment Kal-El ignored them. Jason eyed them warily, watching his father's back.

One of the men approached, and Kal-El held out a warning hand. "I have no interest in fighting with you – I want what I came for, and that's all. Stay back," he commanded, still focused on locating Kala's heartbeat in all of the echoes. The man just sneered, and took something out of his pocket.

Kal-El gasped, and Jason felt a wave of weakness sweep over him. _Kryptonite,_ he thought, and his father staggered. Kal-El had learned how to cope with its radiation and face his fear on the island so long ago, but the pain and weakness were still shocking whenever he was exposed.

The security guards closed in. Jason saw his father's face, white with pained surprise, and looked past him at the guard holding the deadly rock. "Hell no you don't," he growled, and leaped at the man.

Jason had martial arts training, but he wasn't using it. The lightheadedness and throbbing ache made that much control impossible. Nothing could take away his strength, his anger, and his youthful resilience, though. He crashed into the other man, grabbing his wrist and forcing the kryptonite away from his body. While the security guard tried to keep his footing, Jason caught his belt and lifted him. Then all he had to do was throw, and the man's weight was nothing to a boy who tossed tractors.

Yelling in surprise and fear, the guard landed on his rump and skidded several more yards. That was far enough for Kal-El to clear his head of the worst of the radiation, and he grabbed Jason's arm. With a single leap they were away from the guards and on the next floor up. "She's higher," Kal-El muttered. He turned to jump again…

…Jason sucked in a breath. There was General Zod, floating before them with his arms crossed, just watching them with a perfectly supercilious look. Both of them froze, staring. Kal-El saw his old enemy again and was disturbed that Zod looked no different. He himself had a little gray at his temples, but Zod looked exactly as he had the day he'd been defeated. "So we meet again, heirs of Jor-El," he intoned, and the voice was just as it had been sixteen years ago.

Jason had only seen Zod in person once, and that was earlier today. For him, the first reaction was not disbelief and dismay, but seething rage. He lunged at the older Kryptonian, too furious for finesse.

Of course Zod batted him away easily, but that broke Kal-El's shock, and he joined the fight. He was close enough to forgo his powers and make it a fistfight, which Jason soon joined. The security staff were happy to stay out of it, especially once a stray punch took out a section of concrete wall.

The fight took place at super-speed, which made Jason feel frustratingly slow. He tried to gauge the right moment to jump in and grab Zod, hopefully hindering the General enough for Dad to take him out. When he did, it wasn't graceful or elegant, but he hung on to the other Kryptonian and almost dragged him down. Kal-El struck with all his strength, and Zod staggered from a blow that could have caved steel.

He was as invulnerable as the other two, and dodged the next punch, dragging Jason with him. "You errant puppy," Zod scoffed, and seized the boy by the hair. The pain startled Jason into letting go, and Zod shoved him, hard. He hit a railing and lost his balance, falling to the level below. Jason didn't notice the dent he left in the concrete floor, but as he rolled to his feet he saw security closing in again.

Above him, Kal-El's eyes went red as he closed with Zod again. The General dodged the heat vision to deliver a sharp uppercut to his enemy's chin, and his own eyes flared crimson. Kal-El grabbed him by the neck and turned his head just enough that Zod's heat vision sliced into the ceiling far above them, instead of searing Kal-El's face.

Security started to flee as concrete dust rained down. Jason jumped back to the upper level, swinging over the railing and landing just as one of Luthor's henchmen approached the battling Kryptonians. The man reached into his pocket, mostly likely for Kryptonite. Jason seized the steel railing and yanked, a large piece snapping loose in his hands. He charged the guard, sweeping the piece of railing through the air, and the man wisely fled without ever drawing his kryptonite. Then Jason turned back to his father and the foe.

Kal-El and General Zod grappled for advantage. The General was trying to break his enemy's grip, but Kal-El had shifted his grip to a stranglehold. Both of their faces were locked into almost identical snarls of determination and hatred. Jason approached, the piece of railing at the ready.

But General Zod's eyes flicked to something beyond them, and he suddenly went limp in Kal-El's grip. A second later, Jason heard his sister's voice, raised in a frightened shriek. "NO! Father, release him!"

…

Had he spotted her, or hadn't he? There was no good reason for Richard White to recognize her. Millions of people saw her face on television and in newspapers, and none of them recognized her in street clothes. She took pains to make sure they wouldn't, just as Clark did. Anyone in the League who didn't wear a mask quickly made an intensive study of how to trick people into not recognizing their face.

Diana reviewed what she knew of Richard White. Clark had told them the bare minimum: his wife's ex-fiancé, now a friend of Clark's, and the other man Clark's twins called Daddy. His primary importance to the League was that he, along with his wife, knew Clark's dual identity. Bruce wouldn't allow someone who knew something that important about one of the founders to be noted in files as merely 'friend of the family', so he had quietly done some research. Diana had seen those dossiers. Richard was more than the loveable scoundrel he seemed to be. Air Force pilot, an honorable military record. He'd never seen combat, but he'd trained extensively for it.

He was also smart and observant. Diana herself had some history with military men, so she had to admit the possibility that he'd made her. If he hadn't, then the glance and half-embarrassed smile were just a guy looking at a beautiful woman. No problems there. She wouldn't be around long enough for him to get more than one or two more glances.

If he had recognized her, then what? He hadn't confronted her, hadn't wanted her to know he knew. He might have been holding on to that knowledge for later blackmail. Their files on him suggested otherwise, however. He knew Superman's secret, and for a while he'd had a substantial reason to hate Clark. Yet he'd never turned, and Clark considered him a close friend. Almost a brother. Clark was no fool, in spite of being an eternal optimist. He wouldn't mistake a traitor that close to him.

More likely, if he had recognized her, Richard White simply didn't want to deal with it. He had more important things to worry about. One of his best friends and the boy he'd raised like his own son were out in the desert confronting Luthor. His wife was recovering from severe injuries. And his ex-fiancée, whom he clearly still cared for, was lying in the hospital bed fighting for her life.

No, even if he had some idea who she was, Richard White wasn't interested in her at the moment. That left Diana free to contemplate other things – after making the mental note to let Bruce know about the incident.

Uppermost in her mind was the situation in the desert. The League had been working nonstop to contain the massive crime wave Luthor had arranged. If he had those kinds of resources, what was he willing to spend so much of them to protect? What exactly was he doing?

The JLA was keeping discreet surveillance, and every available team member would be called in if the situation went critical. Clark wanted to do this alone, handle it personally. They had let him; one or two people, with Kryptonian powers, might be able to pull off a rescue than twenty or thirty could only botch. But if things went bad…

Her communicator was nestled in her ear, hidden by her hair. It looked like any other Bluetooth headset, anyway, except it received secure satellite transmissions. Diana was ready at a moment's notice to respond if she received a message – but only once she was relieved of guard duty. She'd undertaken this detail for atonement, and she would not leave Lois unguarded.

It was the least she could do. Ever since Bruce had taken her aside and quietly told her what he'd noticed, Diana had keenly felt the stain of dishonor. She wasn't certain how it had all started; back in the early days of the League, before any of them had entrusted each other with their secrets, she hadn't known Clark was married. And she thought she'd found in him someone who complimented her near-perfectly.

Once she knew about Lois, Diana had banished that thought – or so she'd told herself, and believed wholeheartedly. If she smiled at Clark, it was congratulations on a job well done and admiration for his courage. If she watched him, it was to learn from the first superhero to go public, and still the greatest of all. Only Bruce, who watched everything all the time and spent hours pondering the implications of the tiniest gesture, had seen it differently. And only Bruce was brave enough to hold up the mirror and show her what she denied to herself.

_No more_. She'd sworn it to herself at that moment, and would keep a constant vigil for any other foolish daydreams creeping in. For what one highly observant man could see, a married woman certainly could, if it involved her husband and the colleague every fan claimed was his perfect match. Diana had the utmost respect for Lois Lane; the League trusted her with their secrets, and she would die before betraying them. They couldn't ask for a better ally in the news media.

Diana glanced toward the ICU. _You must recover,_ she thought worriedly. _I owe you an apology, Lois Lane-Kent._

…

That was definitely Kala, but she didn't even sound like herself. She never said Father, always Daddy since she was just a tiny little girl, and while her Kryptonese had been good before she had been taken from them, she sounded like a native now. Like Jor-El … or like Zod himself.

She looked different, too. Harder, sharper somehow – like fear and stress had burned all the softness out of her, leaving a spare cruel elegance. The night of their birthday party came back to Jason, when he'd seen her in the blue dress with her hair and makeup done differently, and he hadn't recognized his own twin at first. He barely recognized her now.

Her voice distracted Kal-El, and he turned his head to look at her, disbelief and pain written all over his face. Jason saw the realization hit him; Kala had turned. She was defending Zod. Call it manipulation, call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it choosing the lesser of two evils. She wasn't on their side anymore. It didn't occur to Jason or Kal-El to think of how it looked from where Kala stood. She hadn't seen the fight, had only arrived to find Zod hanging from a throttling grip.

"Release him!" she called again, and ran, faster than Jason had ever seen.

He moved to block her, to catch her up and keep her out of it. He was stronger than his sister, always had been; he could restrain her long enough for Dad to stop Zod. But the General was calling out too, Kryptonese so rapid Jason couldn't make it out right away. Only after he'd grabbed Kala and pinned her to the wall did he realize what Zod had said: "Beware, they will attack you as well!"

Jason had played right into it. He was stronger than Kala, but she was faster. She'd fought more often than he had, and when she did, she fought dirty. Kala brought her elbow up hard against Jason's chin, still screaming at Kal-El to stop. Jason's invulnerability saved him from harm, but the surprise of being attacked by his own sister threw him off guard. And that was all Kala needed. Closed in against the wall, she couldn't get enough space to swing at him, but she could press her knuckles against his sternum and grind. Hard.

Invulnerability to harm was not the same thing as insensitivity to pain. Kryptonian nerves worked just as well as human ones, allowing Jason to feel the whisper of a kiss Elise had pressed against his hand last night. And he could feel the pressure and pain as skin grated against bone. It wasn't harm, it would stop hurting as soon as she let up, but it burned and Jason couldn't help flinching away. As easily as that, Kala was loose.

Kal-El had been distracted by the fight between his children, and General Zod had broken his hold, getting the upper hand. While Kal-El struggled to free himself, the General snapped to Kala, "Flee while you can!"

At the same moment, he let go of his opponent. Kal-El had been using every ounce of his strength, and the sudden release meant he lurched forward … at Kala. That spooked her enough to make her bolt away. General Zod leaped in the opposite direction, crossing from the overhang they were standing on to the one across the open space. Kal-El followed him, and Jason also made the leap. Instead of running as she'd been ordered, Kala followed them.

…

Luthor had not been in the security office long. Once he knew the General was back in the building, he had begun making arrangements to deal with his nemesis. But then, weirdly, Zod began acting like one of the team. Filling in for Mercy, keeping security on their toes, ordering the air shafts guarded. It was bewildering.

Being far too smart to think Zod was actually on his side, Luthor started trying to decipher the Kryptonian's motives. Meanwhile, he watched Zod from a series of surveillance screens that had been installed in the now-deserted chief scientist's office. No one would look for him there.

And then, just when he'd decided that General Zod was playing a deeper game than any of them suspected, the other two had burst in. They hadn't come down the elevator shaft, or through the air vents, or down the collapsed mine tunnels. Superman and Son had blasted a new hole in the facility.

That was unexpected and risky. They could have flash-fried the very person they came to rescue, or killed a dozen bystanders. It wasn't Superman's style, and Luthor began to worry. Had he finally pushed the alien over the edge? Was kidnapping his daughter and subverting her the final straw?

As Zod began to mix it up with them, Luthor cast aside his concerns. He finally had what he wanted: all four of the remaining Kryptonians in the same place at the same time. Well, barring one mental case, but Non was constantly sedated and could be dealt with later in his own time. Now all of Luthor's plans could come to fruition.

He left the science office and quietly made his way toward the weapons locker.

…

The fight raged on, and Kala was caught at the fringes of it. Her throat was half-closed on a sob of frustration and fear; she hated that she'd been forced to hurt Jason, but there was no time to reason with him, if she even could. Their father was about to kill Dru-Zod; he didn't know the older Kryptonian wasn't at full strength, and he didn't know that Dru-Zod had been Kala's ally, not her captor. Yet she could not make herself heard to end the fight; Kal-El was refusing to listen to her. She was torn in two directions, wanting to be overjoyed that her family had arrived in spite of everything, and terrified that they would kill without cause.

And her brother was _not_ helping, unable to stop interfering. As she tried to intervene yet again, he grabbed her elbow and spun her around. Face to face, the girl couldn't miss the terror in her twin's eyes. For the first time in their lives, he was looking at her as if he'd never seen her before. She couldn't bear how deeply it cut, especially after this long. "What's wrong with you? Knock it off, Kal!" he yelled in her face. "We're trying to save you!"

Before she could even speak, there was a loud noise over her shoulder that made the twins look up. Behind them, heat vision lanced out and carved another ribbon through the ceiling. The two men grunted with the strain of their battle. The blood drained from Kala's face then, panicked eyes huge as she began to struggle. She _had_ to stop this now! "Release me!" Kala snapped back, trying to yank herself loose.

Instead, he grabbed her other arm, and shook her so hard it felt like her teeth rattled. Even with every nightmare moment of this trip under his belt, Jason had never been so petrified as he was looking his own twin sister's eyes and not recognizing what he saw there. Their bond had always been so strong. He _had_ to get through to her. "Dammit, Kal, wake up! Stop it! It's me! Kal, it's me! Dad and I, we're here to get you out! Come on! Stop acting crazy!"

His behavior made her immediately defensive, seeing the loathing in his gaze. Zod had been correct in his assessment of their reaction to seeing the two of them. Since she'd arrived here, the only people to set hands on her had been the guards and Luthor. She reacted to Jason's rough shake the way she'd primed herself to react to any attack: with escalating violence. Bringing both hands up within the cage of Jason's arms, she struck outward sharply at the insides of his elbows, breaking his grip.

And then, while his hands were falling away, Kala slapped him across the face. Jason's blue eyes were terribly stunned, but the shock was about to get worse. Kala snarled in perfect Kryptonese, "Let me be, Jon-El! You know _nothing_ of what is happening here!"

That scared him enough to willingly drop her in mortification. Jor-El had been right; for all intents and purposes, this wasn't his sister anymore. This was some pure Kryptonian stranger. She'd _never_ called him by his Kryptonian name, not even to aggravate him. "_**DAD!**_" Jason yelled in disbelief, Kala whirling away from him and heading directly at the two fighters.

She was now General Zod's tool. Jason's incredulous scream had distracted their father, who turned slightly toward them and away from his foe. In the time it had taken Jason to utter that single word, Kala had reached their father's side, roughly grabbing his forearm to pull him further around. Floored by the display of strength, Kal-El let himself be moved. Then Kala did the last thing he would ever have seen coming. Leaning up into his face, fury rampant in her voice, she shouted, "_Leave him alone!_"

Utterly stupefied by this behavior from his own daughter, his baby girl, whom he'd adored and cosseted for the last ten years, Kal-El could only stare at her. This was not the reunion any of them had expected.

So thrown by these events, he was unaware that, behind him, General Zod had regained his bearings and was taking a menacing step forward. "Look out!" Jason yelled. Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest railing and wrenched off a piece, tossing it over his father's head toward the enemy.

Several things happened at once. Jason had put all of his strength behind that throw, and it took him slightly off balance. The floor here was rough concrete, speckled with bits of the ceiling that had rained down during the fight. His shoe slid a few inches on the chips of plaster and concrete, and there was no longer a railing beside him. With a startled gasp, Jason fell again.

At his son's warning, Kal-El had whipped his head around toward the foe while instinctively shoving Kala out of danger. Now was no time to hope that her own invulnerability had been begun to solidify as Jason's had. Heat vision was an extremely useful long-range weapon, one both he and his opponent had already used several times. It hurt a great deal, and allowed them to fight at some distance. So his eyes blazed red even before he'd finish turning toward Zod.

Dru-Zod was swift to react, expecting his enemy to strike based on the warning. He already had his hand up to deflect the heat vision, and it went off at an oblique angle toward the ceiling.

Kala herself had stumbled backward on the same debris that had let Jason slip, and nearly fell. In catching her balance, she happened to look up, where the roof of this level had been scored by heat vision. It already had a large hole in it some distance away from her family's dramatic entrance. And when he'd triggered his heat vision again a moment ago, Kal-El had unknowingly seared through a support column.

The roof was cracking, raining plaster and concrete down on this level and the one below. As Kala watched, another lance of deflected heat vision happened to score perpendicular to most of the cracks.

The structural integrity of this place was never intended to withstand so much damage coming from inside it. Kal-El and Dru-Zod paid no attention, all of their attention locked on one another, as a huge chunk of the ceiling cracked loose, falling straight down two full levels.

Right toward where Jason had landed flat on his back, the breath knocked out of him.


	52. Abort, Fail, Retry, Terminate

**Not even sure if I can preface this one at all without giving anything away. Almost there, folks. It's all been leading up to this.**

* * *

In the private dining room of a very upscale restaurant in Metropolis, six men met that evening to discuss the fate of a newspaper. These men were the board of directors of Vanderworth Holdings Ltd, and several of them were also on the boards of Eagle Capital Investments and Prometheus Corp. Mr. Cooper, the CEO of Vanderworth, viewed his colleagues with veiled disdain. They were all older, several beginning to go bald, and most had the sort of hubris that would think their toupees could fool a college-age blonde.

"As you all know, Mr. Roth's orders are clear," said Mr. Newman, the eldest, wealthiest, and most influential person present. He knew it, too, and used it every chance he could. "Regardless of what happens with Prometheus' other projects, we are to take this objective at any cost. No exceptions."

"Doesn't he realize we've driven the stock so high we're losing a margin to the damn day traders?"Mr. Cooper growled, but without much venom. He had been with Vanderworth long enough to remember Gertrude and her eccentricities. He knew Mr. Roth's type, and also knew that as long as Roth held the purse strings, they would all dance to his tune. Hopefully he would continue to show enough restraint to keep from collapsing the companies Prometheus funded.

Newman sipped his second martini and replied, predictably, "He doesn't care, so long as we end up with a controlling interest. The higher the stock goes, the more tempting it will be for some of the hangers-on to sell." Easy for him to say; he was Roth's right-hand man in all things financial.

"We'll all be scrambling to fund the expenditure," Mr. McClure sighed, nursing his fourth drink. Cooper could pity him, just a little. Several years ago he'd made the mistake of using his family's company to finance his two homes and three vehicles. When the business simply evaporated – a common problem in this rapidly-shifting digital age – he'd had to sell shares to Vanderworth just to stay afloat. Now he was part of the board of directors, his business acumen serving Cooper in good stead, but he resented the fact that Vanderworth was ultimately controlled by Prometheus.

"Relax. Prometheus' R&D will refund all of us. Their April product rollout ought to skyrocket sales." That was Mr. Neal, the youngest at the table, with a background in corporate law. Cooper lifted his drink to hide his sneer; Neal would never admit it if there was a problem, anyway. He'd keep right on patting their backs and reassuring them until they all wound up in bankruptcy court.

"So everything is proceeding according to plan so far," Newman mused. "Hollis, have you heard from Eastlake?"

The fifth man nodded. Hollis was on the board of directors of Eagle Capital Investments, and considered himself an advisor to its CEO, Erik Eastlake. He had given the young investor his orders regarding the power structure of the _Daily Planet_, and even though Eastlake had failed to compromise the heir apparent, he was still on board for the takeover. "He said he's amassed a share, and will be with us on Friday."

"Excellent," said the sixth, Mr. Douglas, who spoke with an Australian accent. The newcomer to the group, he represented those shadowy interests that Cooper preferred not to know too much about. "Mr. Roth will be very pleased with our success. And I personally will enjoy the expression on that hard-headed old editor's face when we tell White we own his precious paper. Not to mention his darling protégée. She should have taken the merger we proposed."

…

Her green eyes were closing for the fifth time. Lana was clearly tired, having slipped into dozing several times as they sat, but she hadn't wanted to leave. Richard pretended not to notice when she drifted off to sleep in the chair beside Lois' hospital bed. Curled into the overstuffed chair with her bare feet under her, Elise was faring better, reading a science magazine she'd taken from the waiting room. Everything else was still – the nurse had checked on Lois less than an hour ago, and since she was in stable condition for the moment, no one would come in for a while.

Richard sat beside her and held her hand, thinking about how strangely easy it was to get used to this. He'd dropped into a mindset of interminable waiting, until the present circumstances began to seem normal, and it felt like he'd always been surrounded by pale green walls and softly beeping machinery. Idly, he turned Lois' hand palm upward, and traced the lines there with his fingertips. One was supposed to be for life, another for love, another for fate or some such thing. Richard stroked the lines again, remembering all the times these hands had impacted his life. The first time Lois had peeled a clingy twin off her hip and passed the wide-eyed child to him to hold; the warmth of her hand resting in the small of his back as they slept; fingers flying over the keyboard as she banged out a story five minutes before deadline; knuckles white with strain as she struggled to keep Clark from drowning in the cold ocean; and all the affectionate smacks and hair-rumpling and hugs since their breakup. The rings that should have been on her finger were currently in his pocket for safekeeping, and he'd never been happier for her than the day Clark had slipped that gold band on. A realization he hadn't expected until it had happened.

Lost in those memories, Richard didn't realize he was repeatedly rubbing Lois' palm until her fingers tightened spasmodically around his. He froze, his gaze flying to her face. It seemed as though her expression had changed, going from the blankness of narcotic-assisted sleep to the merest ghost of annoyance. Richard glanced at the monitor, and saw her heart rate was rising. A thrill of amazed excitement shot through him. _Holy shit, she's waking up! And I just aggravated her awake. Hey, whatever works…_

Unaware that he was holding his breath, Richard leaned forward, watching Lois intently. He squeezed her hand, and felt her give a little squeeze back. And then, to his delight, those hazel eyes slowly opened and met his gaze. "Hey, babe," he whispered.

That got Elise's attention, and she put down the magazine, watching the two of them and biting her lip. Lois blinked a couple of times, awareness starting to kindle, and seemed to focus blearily on Richard's face, her eyes full of questions. "They went back for her," he told her, and after another beat, Lois' eyes slipped closed again. This time, though, the expression on her face looked more peaceful. To someone who could read an article's worth of meaning into every twitch of an eyebrow, it was obvious that Lois was satisfied with his answer.

Richard sat back with a sigh of relief. Lois needed to sleep in order to heal, and she was on significant doses of pain medication too, but at least now that she'd woken up for a few seconds, he knew she'd be all right.

…

While overseeing dinner for his temporary housemates, Ron took strength from little signs of normalcy: Perry grumbling through his competitors' papers, and Jimmy catering to the Chief's whims rather than be anywhere near the kitchen. Such a couple of confirmed bachelors, for all that the boss had finally gotten married. Ron peeked into the living room just in time to hear Perry snarl, "Great Caesar's ghost, if I was Raines, I'd drag her copy editor out to the bay and throw him in. A misspelling on the _front page_! It's a disgrace." Jimmy nodded sagely.

The phone rang then, and Ron's stomach plummeted. All the news since New Year's had been bad turning worse. Kala running away, then _kidnapped_, the bloodbath at Lana's apartment, Jason's girlfriend turning out to be a spy, and then this morning Lois had been shot. His sister-in-law, the indestructible Lois Lane, was even now lying in a hospital bed in Las Vegas, and he knew perfectly well how much that was hurting Perry. Ron had never seen him look so strained, so much his age, as he had since that call had come in. And this call could only be more bad news.

Muttering about people who called at an hour like this, Perry got up and answered the phone. Ron hovered in the doorway, listening to his half of the conversation, as Jimmy eavesdropped while pretending to focus on the story he was reading. "White residence," Perry said, and then his voice turned even more gruff than usual. "Just what exactly do you think you're up to, calling me?"

He listened for a long moment, then huffed. "Well, thanks for the warning. I knew they were going to move on it sooner or later. Our contingent might have a few surprises for them, though. This won't be as easy as they thought." Another pause, while Ron wondered what _else_ was going on. That sounded like it might be part of the takeover attempt… "Oh, really? And just how do you plan to do that?"

The rest was thoughtful murmuring, but it sounded like Perry was agreeing to whatever the person on the other end of the line had to say. At last he said, "Sounds good, Eastlake. I'll see you on Friday then." With that he hung up.

"Who was it?" Ron asked, trying not to sound worried.

Perry flashed his almost-manic newsman's grin. "That wet-behind-the-ears little idiot Eastlake. He might not understand basics like leaving married women alone, but he's on our side and the rest of the vultures don't know it. Thanks to him, I know exactly when they're going to confront us. It'll be my pleasure to tell them they can't jerk us around anymore."

"We _are_ winning the share war, right, Chief?" Jimmy asked.

"Of course," Perry replied. "Well, it's mostly my niece-in-law you'll have to thank. Loaded Lang probably owns more stock in the _Planet_ than anyone else right now, even the employee stock purchase plan."

That soothed both younger men a little, but Ron was still glad to hear Perry muttering to himself with satisfaction, "I knew that boy would be useful somehow."

…

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The huge chunk of reinforced concrete almost floated down toward Jason, who looked like he was moving through molasses as he tried to roll out of its path. Kala saw it happening, and her heart constricted into a knot of agony. Her brother was going to die right in front of her…

Even as the despairing thought occurred, she was moving. Kala vaulted the railing and landed running so fast her feet didn't seem to touch the ground. The shadow of the falling ceiling was above her, coming down to crush her too, and she ducked beneath it to grab Jason by the collar and drag him out of the way.

She'd never moved this fast before, not even in the fields outside Smallville when she tested her speed against her father's. And still she pushed herself to move faster. Her vision actually seemed to be blurring at the edges, but that could have been simple panic. Kala managed to yank Jason out from underneath the falling concrete with just a few feet to spare, and her terror turned instantly to fury at the two whose negligence had nearly caused his death.

The damaged ceiling landed with a loud boom, kicking up swirls of dust, and Kala turned in fury to face the older men. Eyes as keen as her voice, she screamed up at her father and Dru-Zod, "Enough of this foolishness! You could have killed Jon-El with your thoughtlessness!" Kal-El had just turned his head in response to the noise, and the sight of his children so close to disaster made his face go pale. _For a minute, I nearly forgot…_ It was in that instant that Dru-Zod struck, the force of the blow propelling his enemy through the nearest wall.

Kala could only flinch in incredulity at her ally. _What is he __**doing**__?_ There was no reason for that punch; in another few seconds she could have gained control of the situation. But Jason was struggling to his feet beside her. "It's not the first time, Kal! He's attacked us once already! He tried to kill me when we came looking for you this morning!" he cried, his voice full of desperation and fear.

The first tendril of doubt began to snake through Kala's mind at her twin's words, her façade flickering for a moment as she looked at him, but the sound of many booted feet running towards them brought her focus back to the present moment. "This is a wasteful use of our time. The House of El is not our enemy, Dru-Zod," she said, as her father warily eased toward the older Kryptonian and the security guards began to circle around them. "It's clear that Luthor is the true foe!"

She saw realization dawn on Dru-Zod's face at the same moment a voice asked in the back of her mind, _And where is Luthor right now, while everyone he hates is busily fighting one another?_ Where else would he be, but getting his hands on the single device capable of solving all his problems with the simple press of a trigger?

Kala whirled with a moment to consider, racing toward the weapons vault where Zod had told her Luthor kept the kryptonite gun. She could hear Jason trailing behind her, and on the level above, Kal-El similarly followed Dru-Zod. They had to stop Luthor from using that weapon…

…

Luthor was in a hurry. So much depended on this moment, and he'd made as many preparations as possible ahead of time. The essential personnel were safely in Australia; all the research had been copied over to that lab; one complete set of teaching crystals had been shipped to a secure storage facility this week, augmenting the set already in Australia; and the last cell line sample was in transit right now, dropped off by Mercy as she went to finish off Lois Lane. Rather paradoxical, that last, but Luthor was never one to waste an opportunity, even if blood cells weren't the best source of DNA.

In other words, he was ready to lose this facility and everyone in it, except himself of course. Such a costly loss would be seem by his enemies as a decisive defeat, but it was merely a tactical withdrawal. Lois had been on his trail for months, and eventually she would've found an exposed this facility. Rather than abandon it, which would have set them thinking about where else he could have gone, Luthor had chosen to sacrifice it. Enough would be left to let them think he'd won, and yet he wouldn't really have lost much. An underground base in a deserted area, difficult to supply, difficult to staff, and rapidly losing its one overwhelming benefit of secrecy? No, the real cost would have been to keep it for much longer.

And in cutting his losses this way, he had a chance at succeeding in one of his oldest ambitions: scouring the Kryptonian menace away from his planet. That thought made his heart race like nothing else could.

The weapons locker was carefully secured so that only Luthor's full handprint and retinal scan would open it. He didn't need any of the security staff having access to this stuff, after all. It was built to exacting specifications, thickly lined with lead and concrete to contain the radiation the kryptonite gun leaked. Its door was five inches thick, a solid steel core with an inch of lead on either side. It was designed to rise straight up into the walls of the larger room, and opened in less than two seconds. The door closed even more rapidly, the heavy solid metal crashing down almost instantly.

Luthor was peripherally aware of a commotion much further away as he reached the weapons locker. His guards were dealing with the Kryptonians, and if he was lucky, Zod was killing Kal-El. Or vice versa – one less target either way. Now that he had accessed the most crucial information thanks to Kala's cooperation, all of them were expendable.

He pressed his palm against the liquid crystal panel, and leaned forward to allow a beam of cold blue light to scan his eyeball. The system chimed, and then everything happened at once.

Much later, Luthor would try to reconstruct the series of events, and decide he'd felt the gust of wind against his back first. That happened just as the door opened, and out of the corner of his eye he'd seen a blur flash past, going _into_ the weapons locker. He had begun to turn toward the door, astonishment just registering, when a sudden grip on his shoulder lifted him and flung him aside.

All of those impressions seemed to occur at the same time, however, and Luthor found himself sprawling at the feet of Jason Kent. He immediately rolled, trying to get distance from the boy who'd been a proven killer since the age of six, but Jason was ignoring him.

Luthor got to his knees, trying to see what had captured the boy's attention, and caught his breath at the scene in the locker.

…

Zod's plans were unraveling. Kala Kal-El had _not_ remained at her post, as she should have done, and instead had come running to the fight. Fortunately he was able to bias her against her own family, making it appear that he was very much getting the worst of the fight. That worked exactly as planned, for she came to his aid, much to the horror of her father and brother. For a moment, it had seemed as though he would succeed in turning the House of El against itself.

But even when she'd struck at her own brother, he had not raised his hand to hurt her in return. Had it been Zod, attacked by one of his own soldiers in such a fit of apparent madness, he would have used a disabling blow and dealt with the underling later. Jon-El seemed willing to take any amount of abuse, even remove himself from the larger fight entirely, in order not to harm his sister.

_Perhaps I should have paid more attention to this supposed bond between twins,_ he thought. The General had dismissed such anecdotal evidence in his research of the House of El, viewing it as superstitious nonsense equivalent to the endless human blather about the soul.

It was too late for speculation; his initial plan might already be impossible to achieve. Zod had intended for Luthor to slay the male heirs of Jor-El, whereupon he himself would kill Luthor. To that end he had misdirected Kala when he sent her on her mission, meaning only for her to take the life of one or more guards in her futile effort to avenge her mother.

The shock of losing her entire family in a single day – for surely Lois Lane would not survive, especially not with Mercy Graves attending to her – would be terrible. Coupled with the awareness of her own capacity to kill, it would have unhinged Kala's mind enough to allow him to finish his reprogramming of her. With her will subsumed to his own, his powers returned in full, and both Luthor and the House of El out of his way, nothing would be able to stop Zod. This Justice League of America would fall, especially since Zod would be in control of all of Luthor's resources.

And then, the world. Now he understood how he had failed before. Half-mad from his imprisonment in the Phantom Zone, and disgusted by the alien culture he saw before him, then Zod had sought only to subjugate and destroy humanity. This time, he knew them a little better, had studied them during his prison term. And with Kala by his side, he would have a perfect interpreter of humanity's impulses. She had been raised here, surrounded by the savages every moment of her life, and would be able to accurately predict them. She would serve as his guide for the takeover, and best of all, she would be completely trustworthy. After all, he would be her savior as well as her only link to her Kryptonian heritage.

The sole problem with that plan had been the fact that Kala was also an heir to the House of El. Yet it was a simple matter to change that. There came a time in every Kryptonian woman's life when she must leave the house of her father and take another man's name, and though she was the daughter of his oppressors, she was also the last of her kind. Even as he would be the last of his. Alliance would be the only hope to continue Krypton's legacy.

All of that might now have to be abandoned, for Luthor was too slow to respond, and Kala too swift. Zod would not enjoy pretending to be an ally of his foes, working patiently and secretly for years toward their destruction. He could do that if necessary, pretend humility and bend his knee before the son of his jailer, knowing that he had already planted the seeds of dissolution within the family, but he much preferred the swifter, cleaner conclusion.

Still, all was not yet lost. Luthor was already at the weapons locker, and Zod put on a burst of speed. The human would take up his weapon, turn, and fire at the pursuing Kryptonians. If Zod moved past him and was within the locker itself when it fired, he would be partially shielded from the radiation, which would catch Kal-El and Jon-El instead. He would rescue Kala from it – she was running at his side even now – and kill Luthor, who would not expect an attack from the back of the weapons locker, which had been empty seconds ago. All could still go as planned…

…

Kala saw Luthor at the door to the weapons locker, and her heart rate shot up, adrenaline surging into her veins. He would kill them all, kill every last vestige of Krypton, kill her family… She couldn't allow that to happen.

A moment ago, when Jason's life had been in danger, Kala had found a new level of speed, the existence of which she'd never before imagined. She used it now, and the world blurred past, her focus narrowing forward. A similar effect occurred in her mind, as her fear and fury evaporated before the driving need to stop Luthor. That blew like a gust of Arctic wind through her thoughts, sweeping aside all the trauma of the last few days and leaving her a precious few moments in which to act.

But something kept nagging at her, one image and one sound repeating over and over as the seconds stretched like taffy. The way Dru-Zod had lashed out at her father, and Jason's scream. _He tried to kill me when we came looking for you this morning!_ That shriek was born of desperation, and Jason wasn't generally given to exaggeration. If Zod had merely cuffed him around for show, to make Luthor think he was still loyal, Jason wouldn't have said _kill_.

And there had been no reason to strike her father. Kal-El had been frozen in horror, momentarily forgetting Zod's existence at the realization of the threat to his son. Zod could have backed off _then_, showing himself to be their ally, but instead he had struck with all his strength.

The sight of Jason and her father had warmed a part of her heart she hadn't realized was frozen … and just who was it that told her to close off her love for her family and focus on the here and now? Who had encouraged her when she'd tried to turn herself into unfeeling crystal? Who had been at her side, subtly influencing and complimenting her? But Zod had protected her … from some threats. He had shared his own history with her … and slanted every event in his own favor. The suspicions flickered through Kala's mind as she darted into the weapons locker.

The kryptonite gun was right there in front of her. Luthor was still at the door, but Kala couldn't take any risks. She snatched up the weapon, and her ears began ringing immediately as the leaking radiation took effect.

…

Kal-El had picked himself up out of the wall he'd been thrown through, dazed and disheartened. He hadn't been watching out for Jason, and his negligence had almost resulted in his son's death. Never mind that he had been preoccupied with fighting Zod; in Kal-El's mind there was no excuse for such mistakes. He had to be perfect, all the time, because the slightest lapse in attention could mean the loss of someone's life. Jason had come too close, just then, and Kal-El hated himself for not being more careful even as relief surged through him that the boy was unharmed.

Worse, Kala wasn't acting like herself at all; it seemed as though Jor-El was right. Under the pressure of captivity and in Zod's company, she had become his willing follower instead of a captive. Kal-El's spirits had never been so low, not even when he'd seen her falling off Luthor's island ten years ago. Then she was in danger, but it was something he could save her from. This was much worse. How deep did her delusion run? Was she actually dangerous to them, as Jor-El had predicted?

But then she stopped the fight, reminding them all there was another foe to fear. _Luthor._ Even the name sent ice down Kal-El's spine, as he realized they had ignored the human and focused on Zod. What was Luthor up to while they were distracted? And how much of this had he planned? Kala insisted Zod wasn't the enemy – what if she was right, and his sole purpose for being here was to delay himself and Jason? Kal-El immediately rejected that thought. Zod could have surrendered, if he was merely a prisoner. He was a general, he understood the perils of friendly fire, and he would not have provoked a fight with potential allies. Kal-El remembered the man's chilling voice, the lust for power that burned in Zod's dark eyes, the recording Jor-El had shown him wherein Zod swore vengeance upon all the heirs of El. No, this was no supporter.

As soon as the words were spoken, Kala and Zod shared a frightened look and dashed off. Kal-El wasn't sure where they were headed, so he had to hang back a bit and follow Zod's lead. Meanwhile Jason managed to keep up fairly well, using his strength to take longer leaps combined with what super-speed he did have.

Their destination became clear when he saw Luthor up ahead, opening a door to small room with heavily reinforced walls. The moment the door slid open, Kal-El felt the warning prickle along his skin, and knew there was kryptonite inside. He checked himself at the door, catching Luthor by the back of the shirt and tossing him aside. They couldn't let him get his hands on the kryptonite inside.

Kala went right in, either ignoring the radiation or not feeling it thanks to her partial immunity. Zod had disappeared from sight while Kal-El dealt with Luthor, but a sweeping glance found him again: _inside_ the room, pressed against the back wall.

As her father watched, Kala lifted something that looked a lot like a gun off a stand in the center of the room. He froze; somehow he knew the radiation was coming from that device. Worse, it was only leaking slightly, just enough kryptonite escaping into the air to make his skin tingle, rather like the sensation of sunburn for humans. And sunburn itself was a symptom of radiation.

But what would be the point of creating a weapon that looked so much like a gun, and had so little effect? No, it was more likely Luthor had found a way to concentrate kryptonite radiation. Kal-El remembered Pa showing him how to start a fire with a magnifying glass, focusing the sun's rays until they made tinder burst into flame. He could imagine all too easily what it would be like to experience kryptonite radiation the same way, an intense beam of pure green death.

And now the weapon was in Kala's hands. He didn't even have time to worry before she did the one thing he would never have suspected.

…

Jason almost tripped over Luthor when Dad tossed him, and aimed sharp kick at the man. What he wanted to do at that moment was pounce on the sick bastard and beat him into a smear on the concrete, but Dad was right – they didn't do those kinds of things. No matter how much they wanted to, or how much slime like Luthor deserved it. _We're the good guys._

_Even if Kala has forgotten that._ He had never been more frightened for his twin than he was at that moment. His worst nightmare had come true – she'd slipped away from him. The moment at their birthday party seemed like an omen now, that instant where he hadn't recognized her. Now she carried herself differently, spoke differently, acted differently; she wasn't Kala anymore, she was Krypton's Princess, and under Zod's command. It would've been easier to find her hurt and acting like her usual self than to see this stranger looking out of his twin's eyes.

Stifled rage and terrible loss warring in his chest, he sidestepped Luthor to focus on Kala. She was in the little room Luthor had been going for, picking up something. _A gun._ Jason felt sick at the sight of it, but didn't realize why. He was too astounded to make the connection between his nausea and the kryptonite radiation.

…

For a single second, everyone and everything stopped. Kala felt all of it, all of them, resting on her, like she was the knife-edge on which the entire situation balanced. The gun was in her hands, not Luthor's. The choice was hers. And in spite of recent betrayals, there was really only one choice to make. Taking a deep breath, her eyes already filling with tears, Kala raised the gun.

Aimed straight at Zod.

…

In the confines of the weapons locker, the kryptonite gun had a tangible presence, its radiation leakage a sinister stinging on his exposed skin. Zod could stand that for a little while, if necessary. But he had never expected Kala to turn on _him_.

He had seen those mining rays in use, seen them melt crystal and stone with a beam of intense light. And now the most diabolical adaptation of that technology was turned on him. Zod froze for an instant, knowing true terror for the first time since the Phantom Zone descended to swallow him up with its terrible deathless oblivion.

But this was Kala Kal-El, and he had made her in his own image. If he retaliated now, or fled, he would lose her, and all his plans would be for naught. Yet if he could convince her to turn the weapon aside, his hold on her would only be increased. Raising his hands, he took a small step toward her and asked softly, "Kala, what are you doing?" Everything, from the gesture that bespoke harmlessness to the tone of gentle persuasion to the use of her familiar name, was calculated to soothe her.

And none of it worked.

…

Kal-El didn't dare move or breathe. Had Kala come to her senses at last? Maybe she could hold Zod off long enough for all of them to escape. But then the older Kryptonian tried to reason with her. Kal-El could have told him it was no use. Like her mother, once roused to fury Kala was immune to sweet reason, and knew only one goal: protecting herself and those she loved at any cost.

"Be silent. You betrayed me," she snarled, in that too-perfect Kryptonese. How had she developed an accent as good as his own in only a few days?

Zod tried again. "Kala…" Her father ground his teeth, to hear Krypton's greatest criminal using his daughter's given name so familiarly, but he still couldn't intervene. He couldn't risk distracting Kala at a critical moment.

It was no use. "_Silence, Dru-Zod!_ You said you would not harm my brother, and you have gone back upon your word. I _saw_ you. You would have slain him." The rage in her voice built as she took a step backward.

Zod paused, choosing his words carefully, taking another cautious step toward her. "He would do the same to me, Kala. And I did not kill him – there he stands." Jason bristled at that; Kal-El remembered how he'd found his son earlier, how close his timing had been. Still neither of them said a word. If Kala took her attention off Zod for one instant, it would be enough for him to strike.

Kala's voice was low and wrathful. "Everything you ever told me was a lie."

"No," Zod said, quiet and insistent. "Think on all the things we've discussed, all the abuses and the cruelties of this world that could be made right if only someone of sufficient courage were to command it be made so. Kal-El will never understand that, nor Jon-El. They cannot see it as you and I do – your father and your brother are both blinded by Jor-El's arrogance. My old colleague sent his son here as a messiah, and has not your own religion taught you the fate of such saviors? They will burn themselves out in their mission, slaving away for the good of a people who cannot even be bothered to conserve their resources! Is that not folly? Would it not be best for all humanity if they were taken in hand by someone with the wisdom to see the consequences of their actions, and the will to save this planet from the destruction being wreaked upon it?"

Jason drew in breath for a retort, and Kal-El silenced him with a look. Every instinct he had, every intuition born of a thousand struggles against villains of all kinds, told him this was Kala's fight. They could not intervene to argue or to distract. It tore him apart not to defend her, but he couldn't protect her from Zod. She had to protect herself, and she _knew_ his arguments had a fatal flaw.

Kal-El hoped Kala was thinking of that flaw as she met Zod's statement with a long silence. Still, he worried. Zod _was_ a skilled debater, and his life was at stake now, so he would use every ounce of persuasion he could muster. And he had had enough time to learn Kala's weaknesses.

She lifted her head and stared into Zod's eyes, her gaze clear and cold. "No, Dru-Zod. You are wrong, and you will always be wrong. It is not possible to command people to be better. The way the House of El has chosen is inspiration. It is slower, true, but it is the _right_ way, for it does not steal the choice from an entire world. If people are only free to do what is right, then they are not free at all. They must be free to make mistakes, to fail, to suffer consequences, and to try again. If that means rescuing them from their folly time and time again, then so be it. It is better than making them slaves, for only with freedom can they learn to be the great people that they wish to be."

Jason sighed with relief, and Kal-El could have wept with it. She wasn't entirely lost to them – but her hands were shaking. The radiation had to be getting to her by now, though she was partially protected. Still Kal-El hung back. If Kala triggered the kryptonite gun, they would have to make a quick dash for her, something they couldn't do if they got hit with the radiation at close range.

Zod hadn't yet given up, even though it must have been clear than his psychological conditioning was breaking. "Kala, listen to me. That weapon you hold is as deadly to you as it is to me."

"Good." Kala smiled a fey and bitter smile, and Kal-El began to worry again. Her expression looked too much like Lois' when they'd gone into the warehouse.

Zod's voice betrayed a hint of nervousness, but he didn't miss a beat. "Deadly to your father and brother as well. And we four are the last of our kind, all that remains of Krypton's glory. You will not destroy us all, Kala. You are a daughter of the House of El, you dare not extinguish the last of our legacy…"

Kala's eyes blazed, and she bared her teeth in a snarl of defiance. Her hand went to her neck now, slim fingers reaching for the dainty silver chain there and wrapping around a silver object as if it were an anchor. Clinging to what must be Lois' locket to ground herself. Though Kal-El couldn't see it, inside her mind all her dreams of being a grand Kryptonian lady – the Last Daughter of Krypton – were withering like frost before flame. That world was gone forever, and the true folly would be trying to recreate it here. She understood then what Jason seemed to have always known: Earth was home, and the twins were essentially human. Human by half their heritage, human by birth, human by upbringing. Humans with powers, but _human_, not alien, not in the heart or mind where it truly counted. What was alien in them was a relic, an artifact of a dead world, a legacy that deserved respect, but they could never forget that here and now they lived in a human world, not a Kryptonian one.

Kala switched from Kryptonese to snarl in English, hazel eyes laser-sharp and full of fire, "_Liar!_ Fuck you, fuck Krypton, and fuck your precious legacy! _I am the daughter of the House of __**Lane**__!_"

With that shocking pronouncement, she wheeled, the gun never leaving its target. Her wild eyes swept over Jason and Kal-El. Her brother remembered the promise they'd made aboard Luthor's yacht, never to turn their backs on each other, the promise that had been strained but not broken on New Year's. She was his Kala again, terrified but determined, and for the instant their gazes locked Jason's heart leapt. A ghost of a smile formed on her lips then. _She's still in there. Kal's still there._

It was all happening in slow motion for them. Her father had a moment to remember the way she'd come running to him in that Chinese restaurant so long ago, when he and Lois weren't even getting along, the way she'd leaped into his arms. Even then she'd always trusted him to catch her. And even before either knew she was his daughter, the cashier had remarked, "Daddy's girl?"

In that second, her eyes seemed to speak volumes to both of them. At the same time, the look in them said clearer that words, _I love you. I'm sorry. I'm doing this for you._

Before Kal-El or Jason could decipher the meaning of that message, Kala had slapped the panel on the inside of the weapons locker, and the leaded door slammed down between them.

Sealing her inside with Zod and the kryptonite gun.


	53. The Insurmountable Costs of Destiny

**And then it was done. The last of the main Action Arc ends here with an unexpected and startling surprise at the end. Expect to see more on that scene next chapter. The countdown to the end of _Heirs_ continues... **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

There was no more time to stop and think her plan through; it had swiftly become do or die time. _And most likely both_, Kala thought, as she whirled for one last glance at her family. The knife of longing that struck her then was almost enough to stay her hand. After being desperate for just another look at their faces…

Aware of all of the emotions boiling inside her, Kala gave them both a smile that spoke her love for them more easily than she had ever voiced aloud before turning away to brace herself for the events of the next few moments. She hoped they would understand her decision someday. For now, this was how it had to be, the only way she could be certain. Dru-Zod would never be their ally; if he was allowed his freedom, he would pour his poison into her family's ears until his madness seemed like sense. She had too much personal experience of that to blithely believe her father and brother were immune. Kala knew she had only one choice.

She smacked the panel and let the door come crashing down. Zod leaped toward her, calling out, "_Kala, __**no**__!_" but it was already too late. The trigger was pulled and the world exploded in a burst of green fire that blinded and deafened her.

When Kala came back herself, she was lying on the floor, gasping and retching. Her ears rang hellishly, her skin felt burned, her eyes stung, and her whole body was a mass of throbbing aches. Her guts were roiling too, and as she spat to clear the taste of bile from her mouth, Kala saw blood in the spittle.

The kryptonite gun was lying right beside her, still pulsing with green death. With a mighty effort, Kala attempted to crawl away from it, whimpering, pulling herself along with knees and elbows because she was too weak to stand. Her thoughts were jumbled, her mind full of static from the pain and the kryptonite radiation she'd exposed herself to, but she had enough presence of mind to be surprised that she was still alive. She'd expected the kryptonite to kill her instantly.

Another spasm wracked her body, and she coughed, her throat scratchy. Her heart was racing, her pulse shallow and fast, with an odd little hesitation every few moments as it skipped a beat. _I'll be dead soon enough,_ she thought, putting her back to the wall and trying to relax. She'd done it, destroyed the single greatest enemy of her family, kept the House of El safe from this particular menace for all time, and that was worth the sacrifice. Maybe this was why she'd been born in the first place, this was her purpose in life, to die and take the most treacherous of her father's foes with her.

A rattling wheeze beside her startled Kala, but she was too weak to flee. She realized she'd inadvertently crawled over to Dru-Zod, who lay trembling with the effects of the radiation. His skin had a terrible grayish pallor, and his eyes seemed wide and blind. "I'm sorry," Kala managed to say, her voice grating. "Sorry it had … to be this way. But you … you would have killed us … all in the end. Everything … you did for me … was for revenge."

"Not … all," he rasped back, turning his head toward her sightlessly.

"Liar." Her voice was now a harsh whisper.

The ghost of a chuckle turned into a cough. "Too late … for lies."

"Then … what?"

He was silent for several seconds, and Kala thought bitterly that it was just like him to die and leave her wondering. At last he spoke, his voice barely audible. "Father … brother … heirs of El … must die. You … needed you … rule beside me…"

"Too late for lies," Kala snarled harshly, and collapsed again in a coughing fit. The air seemed to have gone bad, scorching her lungs as she breathed, yet at the same time there wasn't enough of it.

"No … lie," he managed. "You … Last Daughter … you … House of Zod … Queen, Empress…"

Only then did she understand the fate he'd intended for her. To rule at his side, to be the link between Krypton and humanity as he raised a new empire on Earth. That was why Zod had protected her, why he had brainwashed her to follow him. He did care for her, but as a man cares for a particularly rare, costly, and useful tool. Kala would have laughed if she could – that was her fantasy come true, to be recognized for the nobility of her Kryptonian blood, to play out every little girl's dreams of being a princess.

Kala looked at the wish she'd nurtured in her heart of hearts ever since she'd first learned she was Superman's daughter, and saw it for the pitiful thing it was. With that understanding the dream burned away, leaving only ashes and grief that she had learned it so late. Her eyes filmed, her chest tightening with the sob rising in her throat. So stupid, so blind, so needy… With a harsh chortle, she told Dru-Zod, "Rather … die."

To her surprise, he returned the laugh with a wheezing attempt at one. "Heir … of El … father's … daughter." His breathing suddenly grew harsher, and his spine arched as he strove desperately for air. Kala closed her eyes against the tears that now flowed, biting her lip; even though he had betrayed her, even though he had meant to turn her into a sort of puppet, it hurt her to watch him die.

Dru-Zod fell back, panting, and even through the ringing in her ears Kala heard the unevenness of his heartbeat. It would be soon, for him – and she would die soon after. It would be for the best. "I couldn't … let you harm them. Not … my people. Not … my family. I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"No," he replied, the merest modulation of his tortured breath. "Do not… Death … better than … oblivion… Better than … Zone…" He stiffened with a shuddering gasp, then let out that breath…

…and did not take another. Kala felt her breath begin to wheeze, her eyes screwed shut, her lungs feeling heavy. _Not long to go now. _Now she was alone, dying, with only the hope that her father and brother were far away from here.

…

_Not again,_ Luthor snarled to himself. Mere inches from his prize, from the weapon he had developed to end the Kryptonian threat for all time, and they'd beaten him to it! Not even the kryptonite lacing the walls of the weapons room had deterred them.

As he scrambled to his feet, he saw a tableau that assuaged his wrath. _Kala_ had grabbed the weapon, the most unstable of them all, and she was now aiming it at the General. _That_ was priceless; Luthor didn't know what had happened to turn her against her ally, but he wished he'd seen it. The look on Zod's face was immensely gratifying, regardless.

Maybe this would all work out as he intended, anyway. If Kala fired that weapon at Zod, it would most likely kill all four of them. And then the only Kryptonian DNA left on the planet would be safely in Luthor's own cryogenic storage at the Australian lab.

'Most likely' wasn't good enough for Luthor, though. His ring wasn't powerful enough to stop all four of them; he took Zod's threat quite seriously. But there was another option, and he set out to use it.

Luthor moved quietly until he was out of sight, then ran to the nearest crystal panel. His palm-print allowed him to access the security menu, and from the available options Luthor selected 'Self-destruct sequence'. It asked for his confirmation code, which he gave, and then began counting down.

Fortunately sparring with Mercy had kept Luthor fit despite the encroachments of time, because he had to run to get safely away from the facility before the explosive charges went off. He paid no attention to the remaining security staff; their lives were already forfeit to him. Nothing but prison scum hired for their muscle, and it was easier to hire new thugs for the Australian facility than to ship these goons overseas. The loss of dozens of lives meant little to someone who had planned to drop half of California into the sea.

From his perspective, it seemed like a sure thing. Kala would fire the weapon and kill or drastically weaken all four Kryptonians. Then the tons of concrete, stone, and sand would finish the job, immuring them all deep in the earth where the sun couldn't reach to revive them. All he had to do was get to the elevator, and he could savor his victory from a nearby sand dune. Mercy had the ATV, true, but she would be on her way back soon. And if for some reason she was delayed, he would simply take shelter until nightfall and walk towards the lights of the nearest town, which he already knew were clearly visible.

A foolproof plan, except that these particular fools had bested him more than once. Luthor scowled at that thought as he ran, then brightened. Most of the time Superman and family defeated him by being completely irrational, behaving with more stubbornness than logic. Since this plan relied on Kala's unbalanced state of mind, even the typical House of El idiotic defiance ought to play right into his trap.

…

"_**NO!**_" Jason and Kal-El shouted in unison, but the door came down too swiftly even for them. Kal-El plunged his hands into the metal, meaning to tear it away, and was met by sizzling agony. He yanked his hands away, staggering back as sickly green light poured through the holes his fingers had made in solid lead and steel.

Concentrated kryptonite radiation drove them both away from the door, sweating and gasping for breath. Kal-El knew it would be suicide to walk in there … but Kala was inside. She was half-human, partially resistant, yet she would feel the effects too. He met Jason's panicked eyes and knew of no solution.

Then the green light blazing through the door abruptly went out. Sending up a prayer of thanks, Kal-El moved toward it again, only to find that radiation was still leaking from the holes he'd made. Once more they flinched back, only this time stepping a few feet away was enough. "What're we gonna do?" Jason yelled with the barest grip on calm, clenching his fists. "Dad, how do we get her out?"

"Whatever that weapon was, it's left enough residual radiation to affect us both," Kal-El thought aloud, forcing himself to focus on this as a problem he could solve, and not think of Kala trapped in there. If he took even a moment to consider the horror he was feeling, it would all fall apart. That couldn't happen. "If we bring the door down, it could knock us both out. I can still hear Kala's heartbeat…" He trailed off, realizing that pulse was highly irregular, and only a lifetime of self-control kept him from barreling through the door regardless of the kryptonite.

"I'm more resistant than you are," Jason said quickly. "If you grab the door and kind of peel it back, it should shield you while I go in."

"No." Kal-El's response was immediate, firm. There had to be another way. He couldn't have both children stuck in the irradiated room.

Jason was shaking his head impatiently, frustrated with the delay. They needed to get her and get her now, damn the consequences. They hadn't gone through all of this, gotten this close to bringing her home, to have Kala die with just a door between her and them. "No, we both know it's the only way. It has to be me. I can grab her and drag her out, then you grab me and get us both out of here. C'mon, Dad, _hurry_."

"The radiation…" How could he ask his son to expose himself to that kind of pain? His fingertips still felt burned, throbbing painfully.

"I can take it," Jason said with confidence he didn't feel. "Dad, we have to get her out, _now_. I can do this. I can save her. It's what I've been training my whole life to do. Besides, I _promised_ her. Dad, she'll _die_!"

Just then, fresh alarms began to blare. They had forgotten about Luthor; he was nowhere in sight, and they had no time to search for him. He had gotten away, and triggered some fresh mayhem in the process.

A recorded voice spoke over the klaxons, "Warning! This facility will self-destruct in fifteen minutes." It repeated every few seconds, adding to the noise and chaos.

"Dad," Jason pleaded, his eyes wild. No better plan presented itself, and Jason had taken on adult responsibility throughout the search for Kala. It was time to let the young hero prove himself. Kal-El knew that even as he hated to send his only son into danger. Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

Bracing himself against the pain and numbing weakness of the kryptonite, Kal-El moved back to the door and pulled one side free of the track that held it. More radiation poured out into the larger room, and he paused for an instant to look into Jason's eyes. "Be swift," he warned in Kryptonese, and stepped back, pulling the door sideways with a shriek of protesting metal.

…

For a moment he thought his father would find some reason – any reason – to avoid the plan he'd hastily laid out. But then Dad wordlessly agreed, and as he opened the door Jason got ready to charge in and rescue his sister.

Kryptonite radiation bathed Jason in waves, reducing his charge to a painful stagger. It hurt _so much_, even worse than what he remembered of the island, but he wouldn't turn back. Kala needed him.

She was slumped in a corner beside the body of General Zod. At first Jason thought he was too late, but when he grabbed Kala's arm she groaned. _She was alive._ The relief that surged through every fiber of his being was like nothing the boy had ever felt before, stronger even than the pain of the waves of green radiation that tore at him. Kala was here, where he could see her and help her. That was all that mattered for right now. Jason pulled Kala's arm over his shoulders, bringing her upright, and put his free arm around her waist. He hauled her to the door like that, each step an agony, his legs numb with effort by the time he reached his destination.

Jason stumbled around the edge of the door with Kala limp and unresisting at his side. He saw his father's expression, saw the heartbreak there at seeing Kala so weak, and then Kal-El had hold of them both and was rocketing upward. The concrete, steel, lead, stone, and sand above them were no barrier to his heat vision, and soon they were in the brilliant desert sun.

Almost immediately, Jason felt better. Golden warmth suffused him, and he turned his face up to it gratefully as they soared upward. But his twin didn't respond to it; Kala was still hanging unconscious from his hold on her. Jason jostled her a little, disturbed by the extremity of her stillness. "Wake up, Kal. Open your eyes. You're safe." When she didn't react, he shook her harder.

It took a breath for Kala to groan and she lifted her head minutely to look at him. Jason was shocked to see that her skin had a faintly greenish cast; how much radiation had she absorbed? Her eyes didn't seem to focus on him, and he began to worry. "Dad, I don't think she's getting better," he fretted.

"We'll go higher," Kal-El said determinedly, making every effort to sound confident as he soared up to where the thinner atmosphere allowed more of the sun's rays to fall on them.

That seemed to work, and Kala stirred, blinking and staring. The greenish tint to her skin was fading, but she still seemed weak. "Kal, talk to me," Jason said urgently.

"Jase…" she managed to say, then coughed. "Jase… Hurts … oh, hurts … should've … left me…"

His grip on her shoulders tightened, and Jason put his face right next to hers to growl urgently, "Don't even think it, Kal. I'll always come after you. I promised you ten years ago I wouldn't let anyone take you away from me. Now don't _you_ leave _me_. Come _on_."

She smiled tremulously, whispering, "My big brother … the hero." And now she was aware enough of what was going on to hold on to him, but her grip felt fragile. Her next words confirmed that impression. "It's not … enough… Too much … radiation. It's … all right, Dopey…"

"To hell with that," Jason snapped, terrified. No way was he going to find and rescue his sister only to lose her now! "Dad, we have to get higher! She's fading out; she needs more sunlight."

Kal-El could see that, and he couldn't imagine what such high exposure to kryptonite could have done to Kala. She'd been in that room for only a few minutes, but everything in it had been thoroughly irradiated. They were already as high as he'd ever taken the twins, still within breathable atmosphere but far above the highest mountaintop.

There was only one thing he could do now, a dangerous gamble. Kala was human enough to have survived the initial dose of kryptonite, but was she Kryptonian enough to withstand the cure? "Hold your breath, and close your eyes," Kal-El said sharply. Jason had to repeat the instructions to Kala, shaking her shoulder a bit before she took a deep breath and let her eyes fall shut.

With that, and a prayer that this might work, Kal-El soared ever higher, until he had left the stratosphere and its shielding ozone. Here, thirty miles above the earth's surface, he had to position them carefully, as the temperature could vary between 400 and -170 degrees Fahrenheit. But here the sun's rays would strike them all with full force, unimpeded by the thicker atmosphere below. If anything could heal Kala of kryptonite radiation poisoning, it was these rays of the yellow sun.

This was where he came to replenish himself after an exhausting battle. There was no breathable air up here, but he could hold his breath for a very long time. The view of Earth below always brought him a deep tranquility he could find nowhere else.

Jason felt the sun as he'd never felt it before; always when he basked in its rays, he had likened the sensation to honey pouring into a container, slowly filling it with golden sweetness. This was nothing like that. This was like molten gold searing into him, fusing with every cell of his body. If it had had a flavor, it wouldn't have been mild honey, but pure blackstrap molasses, so potently sweet it almost burned the uninitiated tongue.

Startled, he opened his eyes in spite of his father's warning, and saw the sun uncloaked and radiant. Jason had to tear his eyes from that brilliance, instead looking down, and there beheld the vast North American continent sprawled beneath his feet. It was the same view that astronauts aboard the various shuttle missions had, only there was no glass or metal between Jason and the Earth below. Awestruck, Jason could only stare, for the moment forgetting everything but his first real view of the planet. Never before had he truly understood that it was a world, his knowledge confined to places he'd been, places he'd flown over, and the abstractions of maps and globes. This … this brought tears to his eyes for reasons he couldn't explain.

But never did his grip on Kala loosen, and when she stirred in his arms his attention snapped back to her immediately. She had lifted her face to the sun, and that befuddled, defeated expression was gone, replaced by relief.

The aches, the nausea, the ringing in her ears – all were gone. Kala still felt weak and wrung out, but she no longer felt as if she were dying. She smiled, slowly, and when Kal-El saw that he took them back down to where they could breathe.

Both twins were too emotional to speak, just holding tight to each other. Kal-El enfolded them in a hug, grateful that his family was safe at last. No words could express his relief. His worst nightmares had come true – Kala's disappearance, almost losing Lois in more ways than one, confronting Luthor again – but they were finally over and he could wake up to his real life again.

Far below them, the explosives in Luthor's lair detonated. Kal-El heard it first, snapping his head up and narrowing his eyes at the world below. Under his breath, he murmured, "Damn you, Luthor." Was it too much to ask for him to have a single moment of joy before he had to get right back to saving the world?

In the next moment, his communicator beeped. He'd almost forgotten he was wearing it, but he had agreed to stay in touch if the League would let him handle family matters on his own. Kal-El held on to Jason with one arm and touched the receive button on the communicator. "Superman here," he said. "My team is clear of the facility; only hostiles remain."

Oracle's digitized voice answered him. "Affirmative. I'm sending in support teams now."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Kal-El told her.

"I expect sufficient coverage, Superman. This call was just to confirm your team was clear of the conflict zone. Though your assistance is greatly appreciated, I know you have other obligations that must come first." Those simple sentences floored Kal-El. Generally when the League called him, they needed him _now_, and generally couldn't take 'no' or even 'just a minute' for an answer. To be told in so many words that he could take his time – that was unheard of.

"Thank you," he managed to say, and signed off. Both twins were looking at him curiously, Jason holding Kala. In spite of the sunbath, they both looked exhausted, and Kala's eyes were drooping with weariness. "You both need some rest," he said gently. "I'll take you back to the hotel room. Kala, can you hold on to my other arm?"

"I'll try, Daddy." Despite the fatigue in her voice, she leaned into him a bit while linking her arm through his securely. There was no time to really show his gratefulness and relief for his daughter's return now, so Kal-El settled for leaning his head slightly against her. Kala, after a moment, responded in kind. There would be time for words later.

With a twin on each side, Kal-El found it easier to fly and steer. He began a gentle descent toward the hotel in Las Vegas, lingering in the sunlight for Kala's sake.

…

Kala let herself be borne along, holding tightly to her father's arm. The weakness and pain were a fading memory; other than fatigue, physically she felt better than she had since Christmas. Mentally, now that was a different story.

Dru-Zod's dying words echoed in her mind. The fact that she'd taken a life – no matter how honorable the reason – weighed on her conscience. There were still questions she was afraid to ask: how was Mom? And had Lana really been killed?

Shoving all that back down into the depths of her brain, Kala tried to focus on the moment, on simply being grateful to be alive. Still, doubts and speculations kept bubbling back up. They chilled Kala in spite of the warm sun on her face, and she closed her eyes, trying to force everything away and clear her mind. She knew perfectly well that the last few days weren't simply going to disappear – she wasn't going to be able to walk back into her old life and forget everything that had happened. Nothing could erase her captivity or the truths she'd learned there, about herself and about the rest of the world.

But for a while, she could escape that and pretend that everything was going to be okay, that there would be no nightmares later on, that she would emerge from this experience the same Kala she had always been. It was a comforting lie, and with it she banished the look in Dru-Zod's eyes the moment she pulled the trigger.

Harder to dispel was the soul-deep horror she'd felt when she saw Jason in danger and realized no one else could save him. That had shattered the crystal prison she'd built around herself, letting in all the memories of home she'd walled away so she could operate with something like sanity while surrounded by enemies. It had worked then to break down all the barriers in her mind, and it was working now, the one memory she couldn't shunt aside to give her a little peace in which to recover.

So Kala focused on that moment, ruthlessly examining it. She'd never been so scared before, not even when her own life was in danger. Waking up while being manhandled into Luthor's lair had made her more angry than terrified. Even her worst nightmare, the memories of almost drowning in the ocean at six years old, paled before the fear she'd felt at seeing Jason in danger. Maybe that was how it had always been for him – Jason's nightmare was watching her fall and not being able to catch her. Odd, how the roles were reversed.

With all of her mind focused on that incident, Kala began to notice something else weird about it. When she'd seen he was in trouble, she had rushed toward him, faster than she had ever dreamed she could run. At the time, she had been too focused on saving him to be amazed. But in retrospect, she realized she'd never felt her feet touch the ground. It was as if she had moved on pure willpower, her need to save Jason overpowering mere gravity and friction.

And again, when she and Dru-Zod raced toward the weapons locker, Kala had reached for that new extra notch of speed and found it. It was nothing like running. Kala remembered when Mom would sometimes get out on a long, lonely stretch of highway, look carefully all around for traffic, and then drop her Audi into overdrive.

Basking in the warm desert sunlight, Kala contemplated the possibility that her powers might include a whole new gear of super-speed. That, finally, was able to eliminate the rest of her anxieties as nothing else could. Preparing her for what she would do next…

…

As Dad took them down toward Las Vegas, Jason watched his sister carefully. She had closed her eyes, and her expression settled into a look of serenity.

Jason distrusted that. Kala never looked peaceful if she was conscious. Those hazel eyes always snapped with vitality, her mouth was always smirking or scowling, and her eyebrows alone gave entire monologues of sarcastic invective. He knew better than expect her to be her usual self, but he had never seen her _this_ drained. Seeing what expressiveness remained slowly dwindle was worrying. It looked to Jason like Kala was giving up.

Maybe she was just falling asleep. She had been through a lot; there hadn't been time to find out exactly what had happened to her during her captivity, but even if she was treated well the mere fact of being held against her will would traumatize her. And they already knew Luthor wouldn't have treated her well. Jason thought darkly that the man would delight in frightening his sister. Why else would she be wearing Mom's locket, which Luthor had to have taken when he'd shot Lois?

He didn't want to imagine just how bad it had been for her. It had probably been worse than anything he could think of, to cause her to turn to Zod. So maybe Kala was entitled to fall asleep in midair, practically passing out from the relief of not having to be constantly on her guard.

Jason wanted to believe that, but somehow he couldn't shake the idea that Kala was surrendering. She looked as if she was letting go of everything that tethered her to this moment, this world, retreating further and further inside herself. He frowned, watching her as Dad began to bank for the turn that would spiral them down to Las Vegas. They were still very high, thousands of feet above the ground, and Jason tightened his grip for the inevitable swift descent.

On Dad's other side, Kala did the opposite. Her eyes still closed, she slipped her hand out of the crook of Dad's elbow. For a few seconds momentum kept her by his side, but then she started dropping. Jason gasped, his heart frozen, one thought overtaking his mind. _It's too much, she didn't want to be rescued, and now she's committing suicide._ "Kala, _no_!" he screamed, clutching tightly to Dad's arm. He was going to have to do one of those wild power dives that Jason _loathed_, so he'd better hang on.

Kal-El came to an abrupt halt in midair as soon the pressure of Kala's hand fell away. He had been focused on getting both twins to safety, and when he glanced at her she'd seemed merely sleepy. But now he worried that it was something much worse.

Pivoting, Kal-El looked toward where he expected Kala to be, but she wasn't there. He scanned the air nearby, trying to pinpoint her location, and grew more frightened and frustrated when he couldn't. He knew how fast and how far she would be falling, so why wasn't she anywhere in expected trajectory? Jason, clutching his arm tightly, was also scanning the sky, trying to pick out the rapidly-falling dot that would be Kala.

She was nowhere to be seen, and both of them began to panic. She couldn't have fallen that far in only seconds, could she? "We have to get under her," Kal-El said grimly, and Jason flinched as he prepared for a steep dive.

"No need, Daddy." The voice that came from behind them could only belong to one person, the very one they were looking for. Kal-El whirled in midair, and he and Jason stared in open-mouthed shock. Kala hung in the air under her own power, completely unsupported, triumph blazing in her expression. This apparent miracle – no one had expected the twins to develop _flight_, of all the powers – rendered them all speechless.

Kala smiled broadly, clearly stunned herself, at her father, biting her lip a little. Her eyes brimmed with disbelieving tears; in spite of everything, here was proof that she was still a Kent, still her father's daughter, sharing in his most prized ability. After a few seconds of amazement, Kal-El returned the smile, so immensely proud that he couldn't shape the words to tell her so. He settled for grinning at her, tears in his eyes as well.

Jason just goggled in wonder. Kala had always wanted to fly – he preferred to keep his feet on the ground, but he knew how his twin coveted that particular power. And now, in spite of captivity far from the sun and exposure to kryptonite, she had it. His sister could fly. Their eyes met, and though he was at a loss for words he tried to let her know how happy he was for her.

Kala had just achieved her fondest wish, and now she had the balance to appreciate it. Flying meant she was a true heir to the House of El, but only her mother's quick wit and resolve had let her survive the last few days. She could be both, Last Daughter of Krypton and Lois Lane 2.0, and she could be damn good at it, too. She didn't have to deny one half of her heritage in order to live up to the other, and it was an overwhelming relief to finally know that.

And the realization couldn't have come at a more appropriate time.


	54. Act IV: Triumph: With Eyes On The Sky

**Okay, the aftermath of their war has started. I told you guys that the finale would be worthy of the story itself. Here's hoping we manage.**

**Final chapter of the arc in two weeks. The (short) closing arc will follow that. Enjoy, all!**

**

* * *

**None of them spoke in the aftermath of this new surprise; however, Kal-El and Jason drifted closer to Kala, still marveling in this latest development. What was there to say after a revelation of this magnitude? For a long moment they all paused there in the warm sunlight, hovering, reflecting on this momentous event.

Without warning, Kala felt her strength begin to ebb away and wobbled slightly. Maybe it had been too much, too soon. Especially in light of all of the other trauma her system had been through. The girl maintained her position just an instant longer before gravity's pull resumed. Panic rushed in her veins, feeling herself starting to fall, before she realized that Jason and her father had each grabbed one of her arms to hold her up. The sudden shift and the quick return of her earlier weakness made her a little dizzy. Better to just make herself comfortable and let them get her back to the rest of the family. "Okay, maybe I'll schedule the next try for a few weeks from now instead of tomorrow," she joked shakily.

Kal-El's worried expression didn't quite cover up the pride within it. That warmed Kala more than anything else could. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You've been through a lot and my first flight wasn't much different from yours. It only lasted a few minutes and cost your grandparents a hole in the barn roof. It takes time to develop the stamina for it," her father told her with a smile. "Hold on to me, I'll take you down to the hotel so you can get some rest, and we'll work on the flying later on, all right?"

It was a relief to agree. "Yes, sir." She switched her grip then so he could resume the flight downward. Rest was starting to sound very good to her; the brief euphoria of high-intensity sunlight was fading, reminding her she'd been far too close to dying just minutes ago. Still trying to get her head around everything that had happened in the last hour or so, Kala closed her eyes. There was so much to deal with and her mind was still swimming with the potential consequences. She just wanted to be home and safe. Beyond that, she told herself, nothing else mattered for now.

Las Vegas was not a city where people wouldn't remark on Superman flying overhead, so the final descent had to be fast, a blur of sheer speed that took them down and through the open balcony door into the room before anyone looked up and saw them. Just the mere solidness of the hotel room's carpet beneath her boots grounded her more than anything had so far, reinforcing the fact that she really was in the real world and her brother and father really were with her. And the bed nearby looked more like heaven than any bed had a right to.

But the sound of footsteps moving toward them from the other room had Kala's head turning instantly, eyes sharp in that direction. The door to the suite opened, revealing their visitor, and the black-haired girl's exhausted mind did a double-take.

_No way_.

…

Mercy drove as fast as she dared, but it was already too late when she arrived. The compound's security system had sent text messages to her cell phone informing her of the breach, the triggering of the self-destruct sequence, and the detonation of the charges. Arriving after all of that, she had to assume the facility was already crawling with superheroes and/or police.

Fortunately, they likely hadn't figured out where she'd left the ATV when she switched to the car, as the garage was well-concealed. She quickly parked the car there and took the ATV out into the desert, circling widely to avoid notice. Plenty of people in this area considered driving along the dunes and scrubland to be recreational, and she made sure not to seem too purposeful.

Mercy had to assume that Lex had escaped the facility before the charges blew. If he had still been inside, he was dead or captured, and she couldn't help him now. But if he had gotten out, then he would be on foot in the desert as she had the only vehicle, and there were only so many places he could be. He was wise enough not to go too far, at least not in the heat of day.

They had never planned for an incident like this – the ATV was meant to provide both of them with transportation. It hadn't occurred to Mercy, or to Lex, that they might be separated in an emergency. All she had to go on to find him was her knowledge of how his mind worked.

Leaving the ATV in a dry wash below the plateau where the elevator came out, Mercy set out to find her employer. The sand held no tracks to point the way, and she surveyed the terrain carefully. _Think like Lex. Where would he go, with the lab collapsing in on itself behind him?_

She was all too aware that eventually the League and the police would start looking for survivors who had escaped, and she had to get Lex away from here before then. The thought of simply _leaving_ never crossed her mind.

…

It had taken the last of Elise's just-barely-firing brain cells to make it from Lois' room on the eighth floor of the medical center to the hotel room. Having seen her nod over her book at last, and having woken Lana and failed to harass her into leaving the bedside for the comfort of the hotel room, Richard had turned his eye on her. As much as she worried for the reporter, Elise hadn't been able to resist the lure of a comfortable bed. She'd just nap for a couple of hours, get her head right enough know particle physics from pre-calculus, and she'd stop by the hospital's cafeteria for food for the three of them. There was no telling when the troops would make it back; she refused to think there could be any other outcome. Mr. Kent wouldn't let it be otherwise…

With a sigh, she raised a hand to rub the tension out of her forehead as she made her way toward the second room that held the beds. Nope, sleep and that was an order. None of them could afford to get maudlin. They had to maintain the hope…

When she walked into the room, Elise stopped short in disbelief. Both of the missing Kents were standing there before her. And, from the looks of things, they hadn't known what to expect, gauging from their stance and expressions. Even more startling was the fact that she had nearly tripped over her own feet when she had realized they were there and almost landed face-first into the shield on the front of her boyfriend's father's suit. _Holy shit!_ _Oh, that wouldn't have gone over well._ _I have __**got**__ to get used to this,_ she thought sheepishly as she tried to adjust to what she was seeing.

Her shock was quickly subsumed by the sight of Kala, just in the men's shadows, alive and apparently unhurt beyond clothing damage and a couple of dirt smudges. Kala was here, standing in the same room with her, along with Jason. They had all come back in one piece. Heedless of anything other than extreme relief, Elise went directly to Kala and swept her into a tight hug, startling her friend. Until her arms wrapped around Kala, she had almost thought her a ghost, pale and wan despite the warmth she felt in her skin. "Oh my God, Kala, you're all right, I can't believe you're really here…" Elise didn't often babble, but she was too relieved not to at the moment.

Kala returned the hug, but Elise could feel the way the other girl's body tensed and she knew she must be shooting a questioning look at Jason and her father. That made Elise grin; knowing the family secret explained a _lot_ about Kala, including why she kept telling people she was more alien than vampire. A moment later, she heard Jason reply to the look of distress, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "It's okay, Kal. Elise knows."

Well, that provoked a response. At her brother's casual revelation, Kala pulled back out of her embrace. Her dumbfounded gaze moved from her brother to her father, totally astonished at this development. Before they could answer, those hazel eyes were back to Elise. "You _know_? How … why … what the hell…?"

She had never been so happy to see her friend's faint distrust. It meant that she actually cared about her family's safety. "Long story, but it's all right. We've already talked about the secret handshake and the fact that I can't talk about anything under pain of death. Stop worrying." Elise waved a hand dismissively, unable to stop smiling. The trivial stuff could be dealt with later. Right now, Kala being here was the most important thing and being almost like her normal self. There had to be a way to take that guarded look off her face. "Oh, and not only that, Jason and I are back together. So you did _some_ good here."

Kala blinked, her gaze switching between the pair of them in amazement, and after a few seconds got the joke. She didn't quite burst out laughing, but Elise was happy to hear her dissolve into snickers.

Elise was laughing along with her now, raising beaming gray eyes to share the smile with Jason and Mr. Kent, whose shoulders finally relaxed. Kala responding almost normally seemed to put him at more ease than she'd seen him in days, and seeing that made Elise feel like a hero herself. "More importantly, Kala, are you feeling all right? What do you need?"

"A nap, more than anything. And for everything else to just go away for a little while," she admitted, fighting a yawn that crept up on her suddenly. But as tired as she was, Elise saw her turn to smirk a little at Jason. By the gleam in her eyes, she'd taunt him about that news later. Her twin just gave an embarrassed little smile and shrugged. Kala would probably give them both hell about it for weeks once she was feeling better. Elise forced herself not to roll her eyes. Kala had been loudly saying that the two needed to get back together, and now they'd proven her right.

But the teasing was forestalled, as at the moment Kala had more sobering concerns. Now that she was starting to feel more connected with the outside world, more immediate thoughts were coming to the surface. Her expression was serious when she took a deep breath and she said, "And I need to know some things other things, too. Like… Dad, is Mom…?"

"In the hospital, stable and recovering. She was sleeping the last time I spoke to Richard, which was before we went in to get you." Mr. Kent – he had somehow changed from the cape to plainclothes without any of them even realizing he'd left the room – answered.

"And Lana?"

Elise could see Kala holding her breath waiting for the reply. She didn't know that the last news Kala had gotten had been that tabloid headline claiming her stepmom was murdered, but the worried expression on Kala's face made it clear that she'd at least heard about the attack. Elise was quickest to reassure her. "Mrs. White's fine. She's got her hand wrapped up; when I left to head over here, she was snoozing in the chair next to your mom's bed. Don't worry, there are cops on the door keeping an eye on both of them."

The relief finally undid Kala. All of the tension she'd been radiating since her arrival just dissolved and she slumped to the bed, looking infinitely weary. Waving off the others' concerns, she told them, "I'm just really tired. And if everybody's okay, I can finally get some sleep. Which is really all I need. Honest."

"I could do with a nap too," Elise admitted, patting Kala's shoulder lightly. She was never going to take this friendship for granted even for a second – and she was _never ever_ going to let Kala do something as dangerous as run away from home just because she hadn't answered her phone.

Mr. Kent was watching his daughter, but Jason knew his father, and he clearly understood the distance in the older man's eyes. He touched Mr. Kent's arm lightly to get his attention, and said, "I've got this. And we all know where you want to be. Go to Mom."

"I have to get back out to the desert. They don't know exactly what they're walking into." Elise could see how torn he was between love and duty, and wondered how many times he'd had to choose between what he _needed_ to do and what had to be done. And how often would Jason need to make the same choice?

Jason proved himself to be the good son and a very smart kid. "Dad, Oracle said they had coverage – I've got enough super-hearing to have caught that. You can have a few minutes to yourself. You did it; you saved Kala and the rest of us. Go see her, for both of us. Tell her we're back and everyone's okay. She needs that and so do you. I'll keep an eye on Kal. And I'll come get you if anything happens, okay?" He squeezed his father's shoulder encouragingly.

Mr. Kent looked at him for a long moment, then drew Jason into a hug and kissed the top of his head. When they pulled back, he stared intently into Jason's eyes and said quietly, "I am so proud of you, son. So very proud. You're becoming exactly the kind of man I'd be honored to call a friend, if we weren't already related. And you've proven it beyond any shadow of a doubt these last few days."

Jason could only smile, half-embarrassed by the acknowledgment. "I had a good example."

Mr. Kent clasped his son's shoulder briefly, then went to Kala, knelt at the bedside, and just looked at her a moment. For Kala's part, a million emotions passed over her face while she was looking at him. Then he pulled her close and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Munchkin. I thought we had lost you."

There was no hesitation when Kala burrowed her head against his shoulder and hugged back just as hard. It was clear from the hitching in her voice that she had started to cry. "I love you too, Daddy. I'm so sorry, for everything, for Mom and running away…"

"Shh," he murmured, and stroked her hair lightly. "You weren't the only one who made mistakes, Kala. All of us did. The important thing is that we're all still here, we still love each other, and we've come out of this stronger than before."

She only nodded silently, clinging to him for another moment, but to everyone's surprise Kala was the first one to pull back. She scrubbed the tears from her eyes and looked up at him steadily, laughing a little when she sniffled. Elise, watching silently, could practically see him wondering just how much growing up Kala had done in the past few days. Both of his kids were rapidly becoming adults, as was Elise herself, and not even Superman could move fast enough to keep up with relentless time.

Jason was giving his father a very pointed look, and with that Mr. Kent left for the hospital.

…

Kala was already yawning, and Elise felt quite tired too, now that the first rush of adrenaline at seeing them had passed. She'd said so earlier meaning to reassure Kala, and was surprised to find it truthful. As for Jason himself, he looked more than ready for a nap, but Kala seemed to have other ideas. "You have to tell me what I missed," she said to Elise. "Is everyone really okay?"

"Not now," Jason said firmly, and both girls looked up at him in surprise. He opened the curtains to let the sun shine on the room's king-sized bed, then turned back to his sister and his girlfriend. "Kal, everybody's fine. But we can't do the twenty-questions routine yet. You just had a huge hit of kryptonite, and you need to sleep it off. So do I." His own yawn punctuated the statement.

Elise laughed, wagging a finger at him. "Knock it off, it's catching. Gotta admit, I'm just about exhausted, too. It's been a very long few days; you'd think it had been two years or something."

"So it's settled. Naptime. And I'm not listening to any objections. I'm bigger than both of you." With that, Jason kicked off his shoes.

"I love it when you're forceful," his girlfriend cracked back, rolling her eyes.

Kala looked at Elise and despite the emotional and physical grind, managed to waggle her eyebrows in an almost serious manner. "Don't worry, later on I promise not to tell anyone you slept with _both_ twins."

Elise stopped unlacing her own shoes long enough to smack Kala's shoulder affectionately. "You're such a perv."

Somehow, with that bit of typical snarkiness, Jason began to feel like things could be normal again. All of them could get past this, and maybe someday he would stop seeing that horrible despairing look in Kala's eyes just before Dad had taken them above the stratosphere. Maybe he and Kala could go back to joking and teasing each other like normal teenagers, and put off for a while having to be heroes-in-training. As much as he had accepted his place in the world, Jason still wanted a few years of ordinary life before destiny claimed him.

…

When Clark arrived at the door of the hospital room alone, Richard's expression froze. Kal-El had forgotten the implications of walking in without the twins and quickly explained, "Jason and Kala are with Elise in the hotel. They needed some rest first; things were about as bad as we thought they were. But they're basically okay. We'll talk about all of it a little later. I think we all just need to get our heads together."

His words had the effect he was hoping for. Richard sighed with evident relief, putting his head down and leaning back in his chair. Only then did he notice Lana, awakened by his voice, who then smiled warmly and looked upward. "Thank God you're all okay." The respite in the room was palpable. It was over. They had all made it through alive.

"What about Luthor, Clark?" Richard asked without raising his head.

"Not sure so far. He set off a timed explosion in the lab, and I had to get the kids out. The League is taking care of it at the moment."

Lana stood up then, wincing a little as she stretched. "These chairs don't agree with me. If you two don't need me, I think I'll head back over to the hotel – and when the kids wake up, if they need to talk, someone will be there."

Richard nodded, moving to stretch his back. "Good idea. Clark, you're going to be here for a little while, aren't you?"

"For as long as I possibly can."

Richard didn't call him on it, and neither did Lana. "Then I'm going to go grab something to eat, and I'll be back in a few minutes," Richard said. The two of them started to head out, but then Richard stopped at the door and turned back to Kal-El. "I almost forgot to tell you! Lois woke up for a few seconds, earlier. I was holding her hand when she did. She's on her way back, Clark."

With that, everything seemed to be all right again. Kala was back, she was acting like her normal self again, neither twin had taken any permanent harm from the kryptonite, and Lois had woken up. Settling into the chair Richard had recently vacated, Kal-El took his wife's hand and kissed her knuckles, one by one.

For a few moments, it was just him and Lois and his overwhelming gratitude that she was stubborn enough to have survived the worst Luthor could throw at her. They would have time to find all the problems in their marriage and repair them, time to figure out how things with Kala had gotten so hard and to fix that, time to rediscover all the reasons they loved each other so much and to make the family even stronger after coming through this crisis. So far as he was concerned, it was Lois' fierce will that had bought them that time. "I love you so much," Kal-El murmured.

It was enough, for Kal-El, to hold her hand, to listen to her slow, deep breaths, to hear her heart beating steadily. Soon he would have to leave, but he had this time with her, hoping that somehow Lois would know he was there. He put aside everything else, tuned out the rest of the world and his place in it, and simply enjoyed the fact that he could be here with her.

He had gotten himself settled, closing his eyes and honing his hearing in on the beat of her heart, when he felt her hand twitch slightly in his. His eyes opened immediately and he sat up a little straighter, watching his wife's face raptly. Searching for the slightest sign of movement, he noticed that her bruises had begun to fade. The visible marks of Luthor's attack were healing, at least those easily within sight. And her breathing was speeding up. That could only mean one thing. Kal-El squeezed her fingers, and to his surprise she squeezed back. Richard had said she'd woken up … and within a span of seconds, those lovely hazel eyes were flickering open, and he could see that Lois' gaze was still vague but clearly aware.

There was no way to describe the way his heart swelled to finally see her looking back at him. She had lived; once again, the Lane luck had shown itself and Lois had brazened her way through the odds. Wanting to reassure himself of these developments, his fingertips touched and traced the curve of her cheekbone. "It's over. Jason and I are back and Kala's safe. Everyone's okay, Lois," he said, surprised at how rough his voice sounded with emotion. They had come so close to losing it all. Perhaps he'd needed to see this proof that Lois _was_ going to be okay…

Lois lay there watching closely for a time before she blinked at him, her expression muzzy as her eyes ran over his face with deliberation. He smiled tenderly at her, stroking an errant hair out of her face. In that moment, the wealth of his memories of her threatened to overwhelm him, and he leaned forward to kiss her.

Those hazel eyes looked deeply into his, the way they had so many times before. Then she asked softly, her voice husky with disuse, "Who're you?"

Kal-El's heart stuttered. Had he found his way back to her only to lose her again? How could Lois _not_ know him? He couldn't even find the words to answer her. How could she have forgotten the last ten years, all the moments that were so deeply engraved on his memory? All of the times they'd laughed until their sides ached, all of the passionate kisses that led to more, even all of the arguments. Was all of that _gone_? And was it somehow his fault, some delayed reaction to that damned amnesia kiss he'd had so very many occasions to regret? That mistake continued to haunt him, even now.

While he tried to overcome his panic, Lois' lips had begun curving up in a tired smile … that had a definite air of smirk about it. Her eyes had slipped closed, but Kal-El had been a daily observer of that expressive face for more than a decade and now that the walls they'd built between them had been torn down, he _knew_ her again. And that complacent little smile proved she was _taunting_ him, even in the situation she was in! Unable to help himself, Kal-El laughed softly and squeezed her hand again. "Why you… I'll have you know that scared the life out of me!"

Lois' only reply was the slightest hint of a chuckle, but that was all Kal-El needed to hear. He kissed her knuckles again, softly. "Only you would do something like that at a time like this, Lois. I'll get you back for that someday." Oracle had told him to take his time, and though he privately suspected they needed his help out there in the desert, his place was here. He still needed to speak to the doctors and find out the specifics of Lois' current condition.

And eventually he was going to have to pay for all the restraint he'd used and the emotions he'd suppressed. Walking away from Lois earlier had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done; knowing she might actually _die_ while he was gone would have torn his heart to shreds if he'd let it. Kal-El hadn't had a choice then; he'd had to save Kala, and Lois had explicitly told him to go. He had needed a clear mind for the rescue, and was still functioning on that self-control plus the relief of having the family safely back together. He knew that wouldn't last, but being here with Lois and hearing her heart beating steadily in its familiar rhythm – seeing she felt well enough to taunt him, too – was helping him cope.

…

The click as the door unlatched went unheard, as did the quiet footsteps that followed. Lana approached the bed and looked at the three teenagers deeply asleep there. Kala and Jason were curled up in what had once been their typical symbiotic huddle, her face buried against his chest and his arms wrapped around her back. Elise was snuggled up to Jason, her arm around his waist, guarding his back while he protected his sister.

Smiling, the redhead smoothed a lock of Kala's hair out of her face, then bent and kissed her cheek. She had always been careful not to usurp Lois' privilege, and as a result the twins had never called her 'mom', but they were her kids too. And this one was the biggest challenge of the three. Jason was fine as long as you encouraged him and didn't let him fool you into thinking he was the good twin; Kristin was a sweetheart and only needed to be disciplined occasionally to keep her from being absolutely spoiled rotten. Kala needed more finesse: firmness at some times, a feather-light touch at others, swinging between the bratty little firebrand made in her mother's image and the worried little girl who was too well aware that she had very big shoes to fill.

After ten years of friendship with Lois, that particular mix of gutsy toughness and fragile vulnerability was very familiar to Lana. It was ironic – and a little sad – that being so alike made dealing with each other very difficult for Kala and Lois. The redhead resolved to do everything in her power to help the pair of them, even if that meant stepping on both of their toes.

Elise was blinking owlishly at her, and Lana patted her arm. "I'll be in the next room if you need me," she said, and left.

Almost. Lana couldn't help stopping at the door for one last look. The three kids bathed in sunshine, each of them taking care of the others. And back in Metropolis was Sebast, who would have gladly guarded Kala's back…

Lana sighed. Before she went to sleep, she needed to send some messages. Everyone back home needed to know that Kala was safe and that Luthor had been vanquished. And then there would be the inevitable questions, but she might be able to dodge most of those if she were lucky.

…

Surrounded by industrial gray concrete, her every footstep echoing, Kala fled down an endless corridor. Enemies behind her, danger ahead of her, and Luthor's laughter ringing in her ears from all directions. Her heart raced, raw fear pulsing in her veins, but no matter how fast she ran Kala seem to move ever more slowly.

"It is preferable to drowning, is it not?" She froze at that voice. _Zod_. But no, he was dead by her hand. She remembered him dying, the way he'd faced the inevitable almost with relief. That memory, coupled with his words, made her realize she was just having a nightmare.

She stopped running; the laughter and sounds of pursuit disappeared. The corridors of Luthor's lab were no longer threatening, just dull. "Well, this is _boring_," Kala said aloud, laughing a little under her breath.

Then she realized this was _her_ dream, she was the one in control here. She kicked the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. With that, she woke up. The sun had shifted and the back of her neck was uncomfortably warm.

Jason was still fast asleep, and Kala sat up, careful not to disturb him. He had to be exhausted – she was both surprised and a little grateful that he didn't wake up as soon as she moved. She smiled at her brother, touched by his concern for her. At the moment Kala was floating along on the tide of relief, but she knew sooner or later the wave she was riding would cast her up on the shore of consequences. Still, she intended to enjoy this peace and comfort while she could.

And since she was now merely tired, no longer exhausted, she decided to go check on her mother. The way they'd last spoken to each other came back to wound her; what if those angry accusations had been the last words between them? What if she had never gotten this chance to apologize? Kala could no longer afford a typical teenager's blindness; she knew the problems between herself and her mother weren't all Lois' fault. But she still loved her mom, and knew to the bottom of her heart that Lois loved her too. And furthermore, she had a necklace to return.

Stopping to write a note so Jason wouldn't freak out – he was going to be even _more_ overprotective from now on – Kala headed out of the room. She glanced into the other room of the suite and saw Lana there. The redhead was deeply asleep, and Kala left her alone for the time being. It was enough to see for herself that the headline had been fake; Lana was fine.

It felt weird to be walking around on her own, without having to look over her shoulder for thugs seeking revenge. She crossed the street to the hospital, and skirted the information desk. With the privacy laws these days, there was no way of knowing if they would tell her which room her mother was in, and her identification had been in her bag – which was still in the underground facility out in the desert somewhere.

No, it was much easier to read the directory posted on the wall, figure out where the ICU was, and then listen for her mother's heartbeat. Kala soon found herself standing in a hallway, looking at a set of double doors. What she wanted to do was simply run toward her mother's heartbeat, calling for mommy like the little girl she still was somewhere deep inside.

The uniformed police officer standing outside the door might have something to say about that, however. Kala approached him hesitantly. It made perfect sense to have the ICU guarded, especially considering the circumstances under which Lois had arrived here, but Kala hadn't thought about that when she'd headed out.

The man gave her what aunt Maggie called the 'default cop stare'. His expression seemed to say, 'I could think of something to arrest you for right now, but I don't feel like doing the paperwork to book you, so how about you move along?'

Kala cleared her throat. Under the officer's eyes, she remembered that mere hours ago she'd killed a man. _Cops can't actually smell guilt, that's a myth they perpetuate to make people nervous enough to confess._ "Um, hi. I'm Kala Lane-Kent; I'd like to see my mom, Lois Lane-Kent. She's in the third room on the left in there." While her hearing could pinpoint the location, her vision couldn't see through the thick doors to get the room number.

"Got ID?" he asked, not unfriendly but certainly not helpful.

"No, I left it in my room," Kala said, telling herself it wasn't quite a lie. "Please, I'm just a kid. And I'm really worried about my mom. The last time I saw her … I was kind of a jerk. Actually I was a _lot_ of a jerk. And then this had to happen. Please?" Kala gave him her best soulful look, trying to seem innocent and harmless.

She'd forgotten she was wearing head-to-toe black, and after her nap her eyeliner was quite a lot more smudged than it had been. Innocent and harmless were pretty much beyond her reach at the moment. The cop shook his head. "Sorry, kid. I feel for you, but come back with a parent or some identification. You understand I can't let anyone in to see her without knowing for sure who they are."

Kala sighed sadly, trying to figure a way around this. Maybe if she hung out in the waiting room she could dart in when someone else opened the door … but what if the nurses threw her out? A part of her wanted to throw a tantrum worthy of her six-year-old self; Kala wanted her mommy, and every obstacle in her path was in danger of imminent destruction.

Her adorable pout turned surly, and she glared at the officer. "Do I _look_ like some kind of assassin or something? I'm _sixteen_, officer, and if you've seen Mom, I also look just like her. Do I really have to go all the way back to my room to find my ID, or can we use a little common sense here instead of obeying the letter of the law?"

That was the wrong way to go, as the cop scowled at her. "Look, the rules are the rules. It isn't worth my job to let you by on a sob story."

Kala lifted her chin stubbornly, thinking,_ If only you knew who you were dealing with, pal. All I want is to see my mother! Is that so freaking hard?_ "Oh, yeah? Well…"

Before she could say anything ill-advised, a hand dropped onto her shoulder, startling her into silence. That was a Dad move, though he was probably out in the desert helping with cleanup … but when she turned and looked up, she found herself looking at a familiar profile. _Oh, shit. When did __**she**__ show up?_

"Officer…" The woman glanced at his badge before continuing, and produced a business card of her own. "…Willis? Diana Prince, attorney at law. I'm the family's legal representative. Let me commend you on your dedication to duty and your concern for Ms. Lane-Kent's safety."

While she continued speaking, stroking the cop's ego so artfully he didn't even realize he was being buttered up, Kala studied her. There weren't many women over six feet tall, with black hair and blue eyes, who would know Kala on sight and attempt to present themselves as a family retainer. This was Wonder Woman, and unless that business card was fake, her day job was being a _lawyer_.

She'd invoked some complicated legalese as well as vouching for Kala's identity and appealing to the cop's softer side, and now continued, "Please forgive Kala her momentary lapse in manners…"

That was a cue, and Kala didn't need the faint squeeze of her shoulder to tell her so. She gave the officer a mournful look to rival Bagel's, and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I've been very worried about my mother, but that's no excuse for my behavior."

"Well, I guess I can let the both of you in," the cop said, giving Kala a slight smile. "If it was my mom, I'd be pretty hot under the collar too."

"Thank you, officer," Kala said. With that, she and the Amazon were allowed into the ICU. The nurses looked up from their station a few yards away, but Diana gave a little wave and they ignored her as she pulled Kala aside into the alcove just behind the door. The girl noticed that. _I wonder when she got clearance. Does Dad know she's around? He kind of has to, doesn't he?_

For a moment, the two looked at each other, Kala's gaze considering, Diana's thoughtful. Perhaps Diana had intended to warn the girl about giving away her identity, but one glance into those intense hazel eyes made such concerns irrelevant. This was the daughter of the woman who'd kept Superman's identity secret even when she'd had several very good reasons to reveal it, ambition and vengeance among them.

Kala saw a tall, self-confident, gorgeous woman with a hint of hesitation in her blue eyes. She crossed her arms, letting her skepticism show just a bit. _Yeah, even his kids know you're looking at my dad as more than a colleague. I'm grateful for what you just did, but I kinda hope you feel about an inch tall._ "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Diana replied, and seemed about to say something else, but wasn't sure how to phrase it.

Kala turned on the pressure a little. With a calculating glance that took in everything from the perfectly-coiffed hair to the pricey shoes, she said, "I can see why Mom worries."

To her surprise, Diana scoffed. "Your father only has eyes for Lois – and everyone but her knows it. Trust me, _all_ of us know his heart belongs to her."

"Too bad she's not the only one eyeing him," Kala said, watching carefully for an involuntary reaction.

She got what she was looking for when Diana startled slightly, then the Amazon just smiled a trifle sadly. "Can you blame anyone? He _is_ the greatest of us all. Believe me, no one would be foolish enough to try and split them apart. They are the love story we all wish we could have in our own lives. And all of us respect your mother for her knowledge, her discretion, and her courage."

Kala accepted that, nodding. "Thank you for watching over her."

"I'm not the only one," Diana told her. "Go to your mother, Kala. I believe she has woken up once or twice already. Nothing could speed her recovery more than seeing you safe beside her."

"All right." There seemed to be nothing else to say, so Kala turned and walked into her mother's room.

For the moment, Lois was unattended, sleeping peacefully despite the various tubes and wires connected to her. A monitor beeped softly, tracking her pulse and breathing, and an IV hung beside the bed. Lois herself was pale and fragile, for once looking smaller than she actually was. Kala sniffled, remembering how it had taken her so long to realize she was taller than her mother. Her charisma made her seem her husband's height.

"I love you, Mom," Kala whispered, but there was no answer, not even a flicker of Lois' eyelids. That was understandable – she had to rest to heal. Kala took off the necklace she was wearing and kissed it. She had carefully cleaned off the bloodstains, and luckily the pictures inside hadn't been damaged. Gently, Kala put the locket around Lois' neck where it belonged.

With that, exhaustion threatened to claim her again. Her determination to see her mother had gotten her this far, but now that she was reassured, all she wanted was to sleep. Still, she wasn't going to leave right after she'd gotten here.

After a moment's consideration, Kala pulled one of the chairs up to the bedside and sat down. She was able to rest her head right beside Lois', and that was all the comfort she needed. In seconds Kala was asleep.

…

"Thank you, doctor," Clark said, and shook the man's hand. Lois' prognosis was good; people could function perfectly well with just one kidney, and if she hadn't developed any more internal bleeding by now, she likely wouldn't. Recovery was going to be a long process, especially to restore the use of her injured shoulder, but Lois was more than determined enough.

Richard sighed happily as they headed back to Lois' room. "Told you so. Once she's awake, I bet they can't get rid of her fast enough. She'll be on her feet harassing the hell out of the nurses in no time."

"That's Lois," Clark said with a smile. The two men stopped suddenly in the doorway. Kala had somehow gotten in, and was sleeping awkwardly in the chair at Lois' bedside. In silent accord, Richard and Clark backed out and left the two women in peace.

"Well, that's exactly what I needed to see," Richard said. "Clark, I'm just about beat – I'm heading back to the hotel. Are you going to stick around here?"

"I really should be helping…" Clark trailed off, and Richard rolled his eyes.

"For the love of… Clark, _how_ many people are on that team? They can do without you for once. They haven't called, have they?"

"No," Clark admitted. That worried him a bit. Whatever was going on in the desert was going to be a sizeable operation, and they normally called him in on all of those. His powers made such tasks so much easier.

"They probably haven't called because they know your _wife_ is in the _ICU_," Richard pointed out, lowering his voice. "Let it go, Clark. Sometimes you have to be the husband instead of the hero, and if they're smart, they know that. You really have an epic guilt complex, you know that?"

Clark laughed a little, and let him go. He watched over Lois and Kala from the doorway for a few more moments, then decided to get something to drink. Kala was more than capable of protecting Lois, and the officer at the door was doing his duty conscientiously.

On his way out to the vending machine, he stopped to thank the man. Officer Willis replied, "You're welcome. Your daughter was a bit feisty, but your lawyer convinced me to let her in anyway. I hope there haven't been any problems?"

"No, she's sleeping now; she just needed to see her mother. I didn't know she'd woken up yet or I would have brought her in myself," Clark replied, and then the rest of the officer's statement caught up with him. "Wait, our lawyer…?"

"I know you weren't expecting me, Mr. Kent," Diana said smoothly from right beside him. Clark managed not to startle too obviously as she continued speaking. "When I received the news I decided to be here in person in case any of you needed legal representation. Your family's case is … sometimes a little confusing to hospital bureaucracies."

"Thank you, Ms. Prince," Clark said, eyeing his colleague. What exactly was Wonder Woman doing on guard duty?

"I believe you were headed for the cafeteria?" she said, clearly trying to draw him away from the cop.

Clark assented, and they headed down the hallway together, his mind spinning. "When did you get here?" he asked.

"Right after she was brought in. Barb asked for volunteers; Wally and I were the first to respond."

"But what about…?"

"The situation's under control, Clark. The facility was mostly empty, so casualties were light. Most of the survivors appear to be ex-convicts who were hired to provide security. So far they don't seem to know much about what was going on, but Bruce is investigating."

"I should be out there," Clark said fretfully.

"No, you should be here with your wife," Diana replied firmly, stopping to face him. As he turned startled blue eyes on her, she continued, "Dinah was going to speak to you later, but I may as well say it now and save you the worry. Clark, the last few days have shown us all that we've been abusing your generosity. Whenever something goes wrong, whenever a situation looks close to going out of control, we call _you_. And you always answer, night or day, no matter what else you're supposed to be doing. Having you unavailable for a while … well, it proved we _can_ handle some of the situations we were calling you for. We have enough members now, enough variety of skills, to take on virtually anything. But we never allowed some of the newer members to reach their full potential because we constantly relied on you – and some of us other founders – to take the pressure from them."

Clark just blinked. He should have seen this coming in Lois' twin editorials so many years ago. She had made the point that Superman often wound up doing things people could do themselves, but knowing they had a savior made them complacent. The JLA itself had begun to rely too heavily on him – and he had allowed it to happen, had encouraged it, by putting the League first above all his other responsibilities.

"It's not that we don't need you," Diana said quickly, seeing his surprise. "We always will. You were the first to go public, you were the inspiration for so many of us, and you remain the most powerful of all. But you have other obligations, and it isn't fair that we take you from them so often. Your family needs you right now, Clark. Stay with them. If we truly need you, we'll call you in, but otherwise, take some time. You've earned it."

"Thank you," he said, feeling as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders. "Diana, I… Let me get things right at home, and I'll be back to business as usual."

"You do that. And since you're going to stay here, Wally and I can go help out at the facility." On that note, they parted, and a very bemused Clark decided to just get some juice from a vending machine. Who could ever have foreseen the day when the JLA told him to take care of business at home while they mopped up the aftermath of one of his villains' plots?

…

Lois wavered toward consciousness again, shrugging free of the lassitude that kept claiming her. She opened her eyes slowly, feeling as though her lashes were weighted. It would be so easy to go back to sleep again, but she had the sense that she'd been out for a while, and she needed to know what was going on around her. That intense curiosity – not the desire to know but the _need_ – had driven her throughout childhood and into her career. An observant child could catch the clues that another move was impending, another military command for her father in another faraway base, and she could prepare for the inevitable loss of friends and favorite places.

The quest for knowledge had never ended for Lois. As a reporter, she had to be the first to break a story – or to decide to hold it back, keeping a few well-chosen secrets from the public. It was nearly intolerable for her to think that important events might have occurred while she was _sleeping_, the third most useless activity for a reporter.

Finally her eyes were open all the way, and Lois blinked to clear her blurry vision. For a moment she thought she was looking into a mirror, but her reflection's eyes couldn't be closed if hers were open. And she never wore that much eyeliner.

_Kala_. The truth hit her like a hammer to the chest, her heart racing. She was looking into her daughter's face from mere inches away, Kala sleeping peacefully, those long dark lashes and the ironic sweep of brows almost identical to Lois' own. Lois tried to say her name, but all that came out was a rusty croak.

No matter, Lois was almost frantic with the need to prove this was _real_, not a hallucination to taunt her. Ignoring the IV line in her arm, she brought her hand up and brushed it across Kala's hair. The texture of heavy silk was true to life, and at the touch Kala's eyes opened. "Mom?"

"Kala?" There, she finally said it, and both of them broke into mingled tears and laughter. Kala flung her arms around Lois' neck and hugged her as tightly as she dared, both of them thinking the same thing: _she's okay, thank God, she's okay._

When Clark rushed into the room at the sudden acceleration of Lois' heart, he found them holding each other, Lois kissing Kala's forehead repeatedly, both of them crying and smiling at the same time. "I love you, Mommy, I love you so much, I'm so sorry," Kala was whimpering, while Lois replied in the same broken tone, "I love you, baby, I'm so glad you're safe, I love you, too."

* * *

***Author's Footnote: Since there has not yet been a Wonder Woman movie, no movieverse canon exists for the character. We preferred not to use any of the comics or TV canon occupations given for her alter ego, and instead went with a law career, at which she excels. Both of the coauthors thought we'd heard it was canon somewhere, and were surprised to realize we had both independently come up with the idea.**


	55. The ReKnotting of Loose Threads

**We leave for vacation this Wednesday and I'm so insane excited. Especially since we all know that the Muse goes into overdrive when we're in the mountains. Which bodes well for the end of this tale. A few chapters left, to continue the chapter title; we should have a definite number once we get home. It's so difficult for me because we'll be holding off on the next epic fic in this series until around March or April of next year. The oneshots and short series will continue, likely at the current posting pace, though. More on this when _Heirs_ closes for good. **

* * *

Good news traveled fast. Lana had sent out a series of text messages when Kala returned, and she did so again when Lois woke up. Since she knew where everyone was, she only had to send four: to Martha, Perry, Maggie, and finally Sebast. The boy was grounded for his part in helping Elise and Jason stow away, but his parents were mercifully letting him keep his cell phone so he could stay in touch. After she'd sent the messages, Lana turned her phone off and went into the ICU. There would be time later to catch up on calls.

In Smallville, Martha told Lucy first. The two women hugged each other and danced around the kitchen in sheer exuberance, getting stares from the kids. Once they spread the news, everyone was hugging or high-fiving. Martha kissed Ben, Lucy kissed her daughters, Loueen kissed Bryan, and everyone kissed Kristin. No one could contain the joy; everyone had made it back to safety, the bad guy had lost, and that meant they could all go home soon.

In Metropolis, Perry read the message, then spent a few minutes figuring out how to send one back. _Tell her to get off her tail and hurry back with the story,_ he slowly pecked out on the tiny keypad. Lois would know he had typed with his chin tilted up just a little, so that any possible tears of relief – not that he'd ever admit to them – wouldn't fall. And then he went to tell Jimmy and Ron.

Meanwhile Maggie was plowing through administrative paperwork when the message came in. She read it over twice, making sure she wasn't missing anything. But it was plain as day: Lois was awake. While the news that Kala was back had been a huge relief, Maggie had never seriously doubted that Superman would bring her in. Lois waking up, now that had been a matter for some debate, and this news was an immense relief. After giving the matter serious consideration for several long moments, Maggie came to a decision: the paperwork could wait. She left early, stopped by the liquor store for a bottle of champagne and one of sparkling cider for Cat, and headed back to the apartment to celebrate.

Sebast was staring at the ceiling when the message came in. He'd been thinking about when would be the best time to ask his parents about taking him to get a haircut. Right now his hair looked like an amateur had attacked it with kitchen scissors, which was precisely what had happened. He really didn't want to go back to school like this, but making him do so might be his Dad's way of teaching him a lesson. Thinking about that was better than thinking about the first message he'd gotten. Kala was home safe, but he couldn't talk to her, couldn't apologize to her. He didn't even know if she was really okay, or if she was just putting up such a good front that no one else saw through it. He wouldn't know, until he saw her himself. Worrying about a stupid haircut also kept him from worrying about Lois, who had always made him feel like a member of the family. Sebast couldn't bear to think of her lying in a hospital bed. At least when he checked his phone, his worries were cut in half. Surely Lois and her snarky wit would be back in business soon.

…

With the infamous single-kidney reporter now awake, the room in the ICU quickly grew crowded. Doctors and nurses came to check Lois' vital signs, plus all family members currently accounted for were now crowding into the room every chance they got. Clark had only left for moments at a time since Lois had awakened to Kala at her bedside. Also as was expected, Jason had rarely left her side since his return, Elise hovering nearby, so overjoyed by this proof of her recovery that he shed a few tears. As much as she loved him, his mother couldn't help but smile with loving amusement. That said, Lois herself couldn't resist kissing and hugging both her twins until she was absolutely certain this wasn't yet another drug-induced hallucination.

She and Elise had even shared a hug, the girl squeezing her as tightly as she dared. "I'm so glad we both made it through okay," Lois sighed.

Richard couldn't resist remarking, "Yeah, fortunately Elise was smart enough to run _away_ from danger instead of _toward_ it like some reporters I know."

Lois ignored him, giving herself license to hold Kal-El's hand for as long as she possibly could, to revel in the relief that she had them all back and in one piece, which was more than she could say for herself. All the while, Richard was giving her his own devoted version of hell, even as Lana was telling him to hush. More than any drug, more than anything, she needed this. To be back amongst her family and be able to yet again thumb her nose at the reaper. Once again, she'd made it, if only just barely. The only drawback was that even as she consumed the attention, all of the excitement was quickly wearing her down and the pain was starting to seep back in. That, however, didn't stop her from demanding, like a queen from her throne, a recap of everything she'd missed.

It was Clark who told the story up to a point, but when he hesitated after they arrived at Luthor's lab, Kala nodded to her father and leaned in to whisper the parts they couldn't afford to have overheard. She started once, then paused to try to find the words. It really was the first time she was saying this aloud and found that they stuck in her throat. Thank God, she didn't have to meet her mother's eyes. Mom was ruthless when the situation demanded it, but what would she think of her afterward? Jason had been just a kid when it happened to him and he hadn't known his own strength. What she had done had been totally different… "You … don't have to worry about Zod ever again," she murmured against Lois' ear. "I … shot him. With Luthor's kryptonite gun."

That had been unexpected and Lois turned wide eyes on her daughter, a thousand things racing through her mind. Just that realization hurt more than any gunshot could. She didn't want to even give the appearance of condemning her own child, but the fear of something like this happening had been the very thing that had convinced her to make the deal with Lex in the first place. To keep the twins out of his sick little games. It wounded her that _both_ of her twins had blood on their hands now, and this young. She had tried, from their earliest days, to protect them from the harsher side of life. And in the end, this was Luthor's revenge on her. No matter how she tried, she hadn't been about to stop what had happened. She could only be there to help fix it as best they could. At a loss for words, she simply pulled Kala to her as tightly as she could and stroked her hair.

That had been the right thing to do, as Kala returned the hug with more whispered news. "I didn't get Luthor, though. If we're lucky he got caught in the self-destruct. Anyway, I was pretty sick from the kryptonite, so when Dad and Jase rescued me, Dad took us up for a sunbath. Higher than ever, Mom. It was incredible, the view, the sun… I can't even describe it. You _have_ to see it sometime. And on the way home…" She pulled back, beaming at Lois, her eyes dancing. Afraid to speak in case a hovering nurse should hear, she simply mouthed the words: _I can fly_.

Lois gasped, the tears of pain for her daughter that had been threatening changing to disbelief. _Flight?__ She __got __**flight**__?_ Never in a million years had she dreamed either of her children would inherit the most striking of their father's powers. That Kala had achieved such a triumph, especially after all of this mess she had been through, put a tremble in Lois' voice as she stroked Kala's cheek and murmured, "My baby. I'm so proud of you." Kala beamed at that, leaning into her hand with tears starting to fall. Lois could see past the blasé front she was putting up, and knew Kala was hiding a lot of pain and trauma. It seemed that the Lane tradition of Deal-With-It-Later was still alive and well. Thankfully, the original owner had the instruction manual for dismantling it. But for now, Kala was functioning and they had time to figure things out.

…

Once they wheedled the nurses into letting them have a phone in the ICU room, Richard took over message duty and gave the number out – with the warning that calls would have to be limited. As a result, much of that day was spent in phone calls. Now that the rest of the family had absorbed the news that Lois was awake, everyone wanted to speak to her personally. Getting a text was nothing like actually hearing Lois' voice. However, her doctors had been very firm about not letting her get tired out, so Lana was fielding calls and offering reassurances to allow Lois a chance to rest. The reporter would doze off for a while only to wake and demand an update.

When Lana answered the room phone to find Lucy on the other end, she knew this one was going to require a little more finesse. And the compromise was a simple one. She just said, "Hold on a second," and passed the phone over to Kala.

The girl was still manning the armchair closest to Mom on one side, and she had made it her duty to scrutinize every doctor and nurse who entered to make sure none of them were Luthor's people in disguise. No one tried to dissuade her. Having a purpose – protecting her mother – seemed to be what was best for Kala at the moment, far safer than giving her time to reflect and brood.

Having a phone suddenly in her face startled her out of her groove, looking from the receiver to Lana with an puzzled look. The redhead gave her a very definite nod. With a silent command like that, Kala could only place the phone to her ear and say, "Hello?"

"_Kala_! Oh my God, Kala, I'm so glad you're okay." Lana's gambit had worked, and Lucy had completely forgotten about her insistence on speaking to her big sister right this instant. That gave Lois a chance to wake up again, and allowed Lana to pester her into drinking some water.

Lucy's delight swept Kala up and carried her along, a broad smile on her face. "Oh my God, hi! Aunt Lucy, yeah, I'm good. Is everyone else okay? How's Little Red?"

"Oh yeah, we're all in Smallville – well, all the women and children, I guess. Kristin is gonna have a field day when she hears this. I'd put her on the phone but she'd probably burst your eardrums screaming. She really missed you."

That was enough to close Kala's eyes on sudden tears. _Oh God, I didn't even think of that. Jesus, what the hell was I thinking?_ "I missed her too," the girl said, her heart contracting painfully. The relief in her aunt's voice shamed her to hear. She hadn't just hurt her parents and her brother by running away; she'd wounded everyone in the extended family. _Idiot, how could you think no one loves you? They __**all**__ love you, and you could've broken a lot of hearts if you hadn't been lucky enough to live through that. Just because you're a teenager doesn't give you license to be a melodramatic little moron._

There was no time to dwell on that, because Lucy had a dozen questions, most of which Kala could actually answer. Most of them boiled down to the one Lucy kept coming back to: "Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Sometimes she asked it as, "How are you handling things?" and sometimes as "You're not hurt at all?"

And Kala could answer yes to the last, because she'd been able to stop wearing the wrist brace that morning, and the sunbath had cleared up the last of the lingering ache. Sometimes it felt like a different Kala whose wrist had been fractured, some other girl who'd lived through the past few days in a state of near-constant mortal terror.

By the time Lucy had worn the edge off of her surprise at speaking to her niece, Lois was firing on all eight cylinders again and was making it abundantly clear that she was ready to talk. With a look of fond exasperation Lana caught Kala's gaze and tilted her head toward Lois, holding up two fingers. "Hey, Aunt Lucy?" Kala laughed, shaking her head at her mother. "You're my favorite aunt and everything, but there's somebody here who wants to talk to you even more than I do. We're not supposed to let her wear herself out, though, so you get two minutes to talk to her. Okay?"

She handed the phone to her mother, and the grin on Lois' face was like sunlight when she heard Lucy's voice. "Hey, Luce. Yeah, I'm getting there. I'm gonna have to learn how to shoot left-handed, maybe, but other than that… Hey, you know, that may not be the worst thing in the world. How many people can fire a gun with either hand? Yes, I consider that a good thing…"

Kala tipped Lana a wink for managing that so adroitly, and tilted her head back to relax the tension in her neck. It was getting close to time for her to get up and move around again, if she was getting stiff. After the initial rush to Lois' bedside, the room had gotten very cramped, so the family was taking shifts to sit with Lois. The hospital had apparently given up trying to enforce policy around the time they'd learned the Kents' attorney was in the building, and everyone was being very careful to keep quiet, stay out of the way, and be helpful whenever possible. Richard had called and ordered pizza for the nurses' station, which certainly kept the family on everyone's good side.

Thinking of taking a break, not wanting to leave Mom just yet, Kala closed her eyes for a moment. A wave of sound washed through her, each word, each sigh, each scuff of a shoe, each beep of a machine, all drops of water in the roar of that surf. It was pure madness to expect sense to come out of that, to isolate one particular drop in the ocean of noise.

But it still worked. Kala heard her father's voice above her somewhere, and focused in that direction automatically. Not precisely eavesdropping, but the familiar cadence and timbre drew her attention as the rest of the noise couldn't.

While she listened in that direction (and absolutely did not eavesdrop, no way), Kala heard her own name, and that was enough to make her focus all the way. It's not eavesdropping if it's about _you_ after all. A woman was saying, "…a backpack and a suitcase. Not sure if everything's there, but we brought it anyway."

"Thank you," her father was saying, but Kala's mind was already whirling. They'd found her stuff? She wanted very badly to change out of these clothes, and she _really_ needed to give back the money she'd taken – she cringed a little, hoping they'd found out already, hoping that she wouldn't have to _tell_ her father that she'd _stolen three thousand dollars_. If the family had discovered that while she was missing, it _might_ be forgiven in the euphoria of having her back, but if Dad found out _now_, he'd be so disappointed in her…

And then she heard another name mentioned. _Zod_. The single syllable dropped into her mind like an icicle at first thaw, a cold and deadly spear. Her heart hesitated, then kicked up even faster. What if he wasn't dead? Never mind that she'd been there when his breath stopped, never mind that it had been hours since then and his body had been lying in a kryptonite-irradiated room. Kala had been watching horror movies since she was old enough to separate fantasy from reality, and the bad guy was _never_ really dead. There was always room for a sequel.

But no, they'd found his body, so he was well and truly dead, and with that confirmation came an unexpected sting of sorrow. A moment ago she'd been terrified that he might still be alive, so why did it wound her to know he was dead? Why should she grieve for him?

Hell, why shouldn't she? She had turned on him because she believed in the freedom to royally screw up as many times as it took to get something right, but he had protected her, taught her, guided her, all to the best of his ability and with what were, for someone like him, the best of intentions.

"Dad's on the roof," she told Lana, standing up, as Lois rolled her eyes at something Lucy was saying. "I need to go talk to him."

The redhead's first reaction was clearly to veto this, but she paused for a moment before changing her mind. "Fine, but not alone," Lana said firmly.

"I'll get Jase then. He and Elise can separate for two seconds." With that, she hurried out before she could be countermanded. Just hopefully she could get up there before a second set of things could hit the fan.

…

Jason was in the waiting room with Elise, close enough if his mother needed him but far enough not to be underfoot. The pair were currently snuggled up in one of the small couches, Elise's head on Jason's shoulder, his arm around her. "So about this 'getting back together' thing," he began, then didn't know what else to say.

"Don't ask me to marry you," Elise said, not bothering to look up. "We're sixteen, Jason. The answer's gonna be 'hell no' and my parents would move to New Zealand permanently to keep me away from the crazy."

"That's not what I was going to say." Jason protested with an annoyed frown at her, but Elise only smirked.

Before he could ask his question, Kala appeared. With only the briefest hello to Elise, she unceremoniously grabbed his hand and dragged him up off the sofa and toward the stairs.

"Kal, what the…?" he complained, but she didn't let him get too far with it.

"Dad's on the roof with some people from the League, and I need to talk to them, and Lana told me not to go alone so I'm bringing you," she said, and _ran_ up the stairs towing Jason behind her.

Bemused, Jason burst out on the roof to see his father standing with a group of what had to be superheroes, even though they were all in plainclothes. He was most definitely _not_ trying to match them up with the League's roster in his head; there were things he wasn't supposed to know yet, and it would be better if he didn't find out prematurely.

Kala, meanwhile, was walking up to them as if she had every right to do so. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Dad, everyone, but there's something I need to say."

"So say it," said the blonde woman of the group, watching Kala with an interested eye.

His sister looked at each of them in turn, her gaze level and serious, before speaking again. "You all know who I am, and you probably know some of the things I can do. One of those things is the ability to hear my name mentioned pretty much anywhere within fifty miles. Which is why I listened to what you were saying." She managed not to look embarrassed as she said it, while Jason was wondering what kind of costume you wore if your superhero name was The Eavesdropper.

Since no one had commented on that, either to absolve her of guilt or to scold her, Kala continued. "First of all, thank you for finding my stuff. I really appreciate it. And second, I have a request to make."

She hesitated again, and Dad said, "What's that, Kala?"

Kala took a deep breath. "I don't know what the Kryptonian funeral traditions are, but I would like Dru-Zod to have the full funeral honors to which he is entitled."

Into the deafening silence that answered that sentence, Jason exploded. "Kal, _why_? He's not entitled to a damn thing! He tried to kill me, he tried to kill Mom and Dad back in the day, he tried to _take over the world_! He doesn't deserve _honors_! Cremate him and chuck the ashes in a freakin' landfill, good riddance to bad rubbish!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dad stir, as if about to say something, and the tall dark-haired woman lifted her chin. But Bruce Wayne – whom they'd known since childhood as an associate of Dad's, the one they were supposed to go to if something happened and they couldn't stay with family – simply lifted a hand and they both kept quiet.

"I'm not saying he was one of the good guys," Kala said quietly. "I don't have Stockholm Syndrome, I'm not blind to what Dru-Zod was. But _you_ are, Jase. You only know our side of the story. You never heard his. You never _spoke_ with him. And if he had actually reformed the way he said he did, you wouldn't have given him a chance to prove it. You would've attacked him right off, because he was General Zod, and because you thought he was part of the plan to kidnap me."

Jason's expression wasn't friendly and it made his position all too obvious. "Wasn't he?"

"No. He didn't know who I was until Luthor told him. Luthor took me – it was supposed to be _you_, Jase, they knew more about your powers – to be competition for Dru-Zod. Luthor wanted the knowledge in the crystals, and he figured out that Dru-Zod was holding back. He thought he might get further if there was someone else who could speak Kryptonese and unlock that information. Luthor planned for me and Dru-Zod to hate each other on sight, to work against each other, and if I'd had my way we would have."

Silence except for the sigh of the desert wind. "So what happened?" Jason finally asked. That was the one thing no one had yet dared to ask Kala. What happened, how bad was it, what did you have to do to survive – what had turned a fairly ordinary half-alien teenager into someone who would kill an enemy?

Kala's voice stayed low. "He rescued me. He protected me. He gave me advice that, while it was designed to alienate me from you and the rest of the family, also kept me from going insane. Dru-Zod had plans for me, and it would have been terrible if he'd gotten what he wanted, but he _was_ my ally. If not for him, I would've been gang-raped the first day."

Those words, and the bald, flat tone in which she said them, hit Jason like a speeding semi, and he could only stare as shock filled him. In a few seconds the rage would come, he could feel it gathering like a storm … and then he heard his father _growl_. "I need a moment. I will be right back." With those hoarse and wrathful words, he was gone.

All of them looked up. Far above the earth, Superman punched a meteor so hard it dissolved into dust. To those that could see it, the meteor seemed atomized by sheer rage. And then he sought out another. And another. The Quarantid meteor shower was going to be a lot sparser than normal tonight.

Jason could see, and it allowed him to stuff his rage down tight somewhere in the depths of his heart. It hadn't happened. Zod had saved her – that was _Jason's_ job, but he could be grateful to the General. Now if he found one of those men Kala was talking about, oh, then they'd find out how hard _he_ could strike…

"Are you all right?" the blonde woman asked gently.

"I'm fine," Kala said, but her voice was brittle and her arms were crossed tightly. When no one spoke, she filled the silence. "Luthor had some of his goons carry me in. You noticed there weren't many women down there, right? I was doing okay for myself, even though I'd been drugged, but one of them broke my wrist with a police baton. After that I would've been in trouble, but Dru-Zod saved me before they could actually do anything."

Jason swallowed, not knowing what to say. Kala was being blasé about this, but he could tell she had been terrified. She was _still_ terrified. About then, Dad returned, back in civilian clothes and adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I'm officially taking myself off of this one. You understand why."

"Perfectly," the blonde said. No one had to say, _Because any sane man would want to kill the men who tried to rape his daughter_. And Dad was one of the few people for whom _not_ killing someone was actually harder than killing them. Jason knew he would be tempted, if he was out there. Just one punch for vengeance's sake, but it could too easily be a punch like the ones that had turned meteors to dust.

"And you also understand why I'm asking for full funeral honors. Please." Kala said it calmly, but Jason knew how tightly she was wound up. He had always been able to read her, and right now her shoulders were so tense she probably had one hell of a headache.

"It would be wise," said Bruce. "Get back to me with the specifics and we'll arrange it. None of you can be present, however, due to the radiation, unless we use a lead-lined coffin."

"Thank you," Kala and Dad said in unison. She continued, "I'm sorry for interfering. I need to get back downstairs – they're talking about moving Mom to a regular room now that she's awake."

"And making a pest of herself," Dad said with a smile that managed to be harassed and adoring at the same time.

Diana frowned slightly at this news, rather surprised. "Is it safe to move her this soon?"

Bruce scoffed. "This is Lois Lane we're talking about. There should've been a public service announcement on the day she was born."

Dad gave him a skeptical look, trying to decide if that was complimentary or critical. Bruce only looked back at him, and after a moment of silent communication Dad smiled. "Sometimes I do think she should have a warning label."

"Caution: Contents Under Pressure," Kala quipped quickly, and grinned.

"Danger: High Explosive," was Jason's snickering contribution.

"Beware of Attack Journalist," Bruce said, and they all shared a laugh that cleared the air. Mom _would_ be fine. She had to be. She was indestructible, a force of nature, a woman whom every superhero in the nation knew and respected. Just after being shot, she was already awake, and Jason had overheard her asking when she could get back to work. If they had allowed her to use the phone as much as she wanted, she would've been calling Perry for details about the paper.

On that relieved note, Kala and Jason headed back down to Mom's room.

…

The four of them watched them go with the faintest amusement all around. "Good kids you've got there," Dinah remarked thoughtfully.

"They are." Kal-El was still seething somewhere deep inside, but he could ignore that for now. Luthor's goons would be dealt with by justice, not vengeance. He had to keep telling himself that. In many ways he still saw that little six-year-old girl when he looked at Kala – his baby daughter. He was never going to stop wanting to protect her. Jason, now, that was a slightly different story. Jason was growing up into a fine young man, and Kal-El could see that easily. In many ways looking at Jason was like looking at his own past. With Kala, he needed her to wear a nametag that read 'Young Woman' as a constant reminder.

Kala had said she almost handled the situation by herself, but it still had to weigh on her mind, as Zod's death must. And who knew what else had happened? _She's going to see Dr. Marrin again as soon as we get back to Metropolis. He may not know the whole truth, but he's __**good**__ and he knows her._ That soothed his conscience enough to let him focus on the moment. "You were saying, Bruce?"

Bruce swung back to business with his customary thoroughness. "J'onn says we've found all the survivors. We've recovered some of the casualties, but it's going to be a long process. The explosive charges were carefully set for maximum damage."

Kal-El couldn't help a sudden flare of hopefulness within the spike of guilt at those lost lives. "Any sign of Luthor himself?"

"Negative. He may be among the casualties, but for now I'm assuming he escaped. Don't relinquish police protection until we know his whereabouts."

"Trust me, I'll take all the extra eyes I can get," Kal-El replied.

It was Diana who added, "We've also found an extensive laboratory area. Many of the individual labs appear to be devoted to the study of crystalline structures."

Kal-El bit back a curse. "Well, we knew he was using Kryptonian crystal to manufacture the high-speed computer processors, among other things."

"With your permission, I'd like to give Wayne Enterprises' R & D department access to Luthor's research notes and materials, if we find them," Bruce said.

"That technology can be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands," Kal-El warned.

Bruce smiled. "So could everything else they work with. We know Luthor has other development sites – he never works without redundant backup. This technology _will_ reach the public. The best we can do is force him to compete with us in a free market. One of his main goals has been the proprietary use of the crystals, and we can beat him there. We aren't interested in artificially holding back progress to drive up profits on each new upgrade, for example."

"You're suggesting industrial espionage," Diana pointed out.

Bruce simply shrugged. "Luthor stole the crystals in the first place. I'm asking the true owner's permission to salvage what we can from this disaster. That gives Wayne Enterprises more right to develop and market the technology along safe, legal, ethical lines. Using Luthor's notes and materials falls into a gray area, but if we tried to start from the original crystals like he did we'd be a decade behind and no real competition."

"Do it, but keep me appraised. I'd like to know how much Luthor knows, and if we can get ahead of him." The thought of allowing Krypton's technological advantage out of his direct control made Kal-El queasy, but the fact was that it had been out of his control for ten years. At least he could trust Bruce to be honorable and honest.

That let them fall into silence, until Dinah asked, "Are they really going to move your wife to another room?"

"Yes, eventually. You know how hospitals are."

Dinah nodded decisively. "Well, that decides it. Get back to her and make sure she doesn't eat one of the interns alive for making her stay in bed. Don't worry. We'll keep you updated, and we'll send someone over with your daughter's belongings."

Once he would've argued, but at the moment Kal-El had a multitude of reasons to follow Dinah's suggestion, and did so with gratitude.

…

Apparently the Kents had made more of a nuisance of themselves in the ICU than they'd thought, because Lois was already being transferred to a regular room when her husband returned. She refused to be wheeled there in a gurney like an invalid, glaring at the patient transport team until they brought her a wheelchair instead. Walking the distance was absolutely out of the question, they told her, and she discovered that as soon as she sat up to transfer to the wheelchair.

Still, Lois had to take a few slow steps, just to prove she could. After that she let them wheel her to another floor, the whole flock in attendance and a uniformed police officer ahead of her. "This looks like a freaking processional," she muttered.

Kala, walking just to the left of the wheelchair, grinned. "It is. And we're your honor guard." With a glance at her brother, the two began marching in step, squaring their shoulders and holding their heads high.

Lois just snorted, but the little bit of humor certainly helped when it came time to transfer to the other bed. She refused to show pain other than by the occasional wince, hiss, and bitten-off curse, but was quite clearly relieved to be comfortable again. Richard shook his head at her stubbornness; if it was him, he'd be taking advantage of the break. An honorable injury that like was worth at least a month of someone else bringing his meals, fluffing his pillow, and generally coddling him.

When they were installed, the doctor came to see them and review Lois' case. He was a young man with a great bedside manner – he even charmed Lois. "Now, from what I see here, you should expect to remain hospitalized for a few more days just to keep you under observation. As soon as possible you want to start physical therapy for the shoulder – just range-of-motion exercises for now, to keep it from stiffening as it heals. If you're willing to put in the effort in PT, I'm certain you can regain full use of that arm."

"Don't worry about the effort," Lois advised him. "And don't expect me here for very long. As soon as I can I'd like to transfer to Metropolis General back home."

"That's an excellent hospital; I interned there. How exactly are you planning to transfer, Mrs. Lane-Kent?"

Before Lois could answer, Richard cut in. "Did they put in the notes how she arrived here, doctor?"

He flipped back a page in Lois' chart. "Ah, it says walk-in to the ER. That can't be right…"

Richard grinned, tipping Clark a wink while the doctor wasn't looking. "It isn't. She flew in – this is Lois Lane. Superman is a friend of the family. I'm sure if we ask him nicely he'll transport her."

"Superman isn't a freaking ferry service, Richard," Lois sighed. "Actually, doctor, I planned on flying in something a little more conventional. My loudmouth ex here is a licensed pilot, after all. Might as well let him be useful for once."

That got laughs all around, which Richard didn't mind. Someone had to be the comic relief in this family full of serious, driven Type-A personalities, and he had the wit for it. The doctor went on with his warnings and advice, most of it fairly standard, and ended with, "Remember, no strenuous activity for at _least _three weeks. That's the absolute minimum recovery time for the type of injuries you've had. For most people it turns out to be a month, month and a half."

By the set of her jaw, Lois was taking that as a personal challenge, and Clark cut her a warning look. "Don't worry, doctor, we'll remind her. Lois, I'm serious."

She glared at him archly. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. Three weeks, no strenuous activity whatsoever."

"Is that so?"

"_Yes_, Lois. And I _will_ enforce it."

With that Lois smiled one of the syrupy sweet grins that promised imminent destruction, and turned to the doctor with bright-eyed cheer. "So tell me, doctor. Is sex considered a strenuous activity?"

Richard couldn't resist. "Only if you're doing it right!" That got him smacked in the shoulder by Lana, while all three teenagers groaned and rolled their eyes. Clark just looked shocked by Lois' temerity.

Evidently the doctor hadn't expected such a question either, as he stammered slightly. "Well, ah, yes, considering your internal injuries, sexual intercourse is probably too strenuous for several weeks."

"Oh, now that is just unacceptable," Clark said, his voice dropping into a lower register in reactionary disbelief. Only to realize what he'd just said, and blushed while Lois snickered.

Richard could barely stand, he was laughing so hard, and both twins had stuck their fingers in their ears with expressions of pure agony on their faces. "Doc, they'll be all right – the man's just _extremely_ glad his wife made it through surgery."

"You can shut up any time, Richard," Lois groused, which just made him laugh harder. Lana tried to help him breathe by smacking him a few more times, glaring furiously, and in the general uproar the doctor escaped.

…

The new hospital room was spacious enough for all of them, with extra seating, and no one particularly wanted to leave. Lois could've done without quite so much hovering, but there seemed to be no way of stopping the whole crew from falling over each other to adjust her pillows or get her a sip of water.

And then one of the nurses stopped in to check on the new patient in her ward. She happened to be tall, slender, and blonde. Kala was instantly on the alert, stepping between the nurse and her mother with a baleful look in her eye, faster on the uptake than Jase or her father or Lois herself, all senses alert and ready to fight as swiftly as if she'd never left Luthor's compound…

…but it wasn't Mercy Graves. It was just a tall, slender, blonde nurse, who looked slightly startled at how quickly Kala had gotten up. "Sorry, um, thought you were someone else," Kala said, blushing. Lois breathed out, slowly, glad that Kala hadn't broken out super-speed in front of a witness – or smacked the woman before realizing she wasn't a threat.

"We've all been on edge," Clark said, touching Kala's shoulder lightly and turning one of his sincere, kind smiles on the nurse. He was one of those people who could _not_ lie with facial expressions, something Lois had always appreciated about him, and the nurse smiled back before introducing herself and looking over her patient. Lois explained that she'd gotten rid of the morphine pump as soon as she was conscious because she enjoyed staying that way, and would be quite happy with some Vicodin every four hours or so.

Once they were alone again in the spacious room – and if Red thought no one had noticed they were in the VIP suite, well, think again – Kala sat down with a sigh of excess adrenaline. Lois' frustration boiled over then. Her own daughter had leapt up to defend her, while she was lying here virtually helpless.

Which she wouldn't be if she hadn't been stupid enough to fall for Luthor's trap and let him shoot her. And _none_ of them would even _be_ in this mess if she hadn't agreed to that bargain ten years ago, keeping a secret that nearly poisoned her marriage and almost got half the family killed…

It was enough to bring almost anyone to tears, but Lois being Lois, she cursed instead. Richard, who had been innocently tucking the blanket around her toes, just looked at her perplexedly when she swore at him.

"Lois, what's wrong?" Clark asked worriedly.

"Dammit, I'm just about sick of all of you treating me like the heroine of the story," she growled. All of them seemed confused, so she elaborated. "Did you forget the part where everyone looked at me like a traitor because I cut a deal with Luthor? Did you forget the part where my research kicked off all of this? Did you especially forget the part where me slapping my own daughter in the face is what made her run away in the first place so Luthor could kidnap her?"

Kala was the first to cut her off. "Okay, whoa, Mom. I didn't leave just because you slapped me – it was you, and Dad yelling at me, and Sebast believing what Giselle told him, and also me just being emo. Besides, I pretty much deserved to be slapped that night. I was being a total pain in the neck and doing some really stupid stuff."

"Speaking of which, we've met Nick, and your father didn't strangle him," Richard remarked.

While Kala stared wide-eyed, Clark picked up the thread. "Lois, Luthor was going to do this eventually. He had the whole lab set up, and he planted Giselle _before_ your research started. You might have accelerated his timetable, but he was always planning to come after us. It's just what Luthor does."

And Jason came in for the final point. "You made that deal to protect us, Mom. We all get that now, even Dad. Right?"

Clark sighed. "I couldn't have made that choice, but you've always been willing to do whatever it takes to keep _all_ of us safe. And for ten years, it worked perfectly."

Lois looked at each of them in turn, and saw only solemn regard. Even Elise seemed approving, and she was the one with the most reason to turn and run from all the madness. She turned to Kala, and saw those hazel eyes identical to her own meeting hers with steady patience. "Did Luthor even tell you what the deal was?" she asked, hating herself for the question.

Kala snorted, a decidedly unladylike sound. "No, but he tried to give me a load of b.s. Mom, Luthor lies. He _always_ lies. I'm too smart to believe that crap."

Maybe Jason heard a flicker of pain in his twin's voice, or maybe he simply wanted it said and done. The truth had to be kinder than whatever story Luthor had tried to tell her. "Kal, Mom promised not to hunt Luthor. He knew Dad's identity, he knew whose kids we are. He would've gone public with it if Mom tried to track him down. That was what the deal really was, and it all went down back when we were just six years old."

"Sounds like good common sense to me," Kala replied with a shrug. "And that explains why Dad legally adopted us as well as marrying Mom. It puts _his_ name on the birth certificate."

"Also explains why there are some well-known pictures of Superman standing next to Dad," Jason said, grinning. Lois smiled a little, too. That had been one of her better ideas, photographic evidence that Clark couldn't _possibly_ be Superman.

Kala turned back to her mother. "I knew you had to be protecting us. Dru-Zod even told me that; even _he_ knew you wouldn't make a deal with Luthor unless it was for our sake."

As Lois tried to fathom that, Jason laid his hand over hers. It always startled her to realize he could do that; her son was easily six inches taller and quite a bit heavier than she was. If he wanted to he could pick her up in one arm, and when he took her hand it almost disappeared within his. "As far back as I can remember, Mom, you've always protected us. But now Kal and I are coming into our heritage, and we're getting to the point where we can look after ourselves. You did your job as a mom perfectly to get us here. It's time to let _us_ protect _you_."

Lois blinked back tears, biting her lip. There just weren't any words for the level of emotion Jason's speech made her feel. It had been hard enough to hear him saying that, but in true twins tradition, Kala had to one up it by taking her other hand with great care to add hoarsely, "Amen to that, Jase. Enough is enough. This time paid for all. It's our turn do our best for you."

And this time she wasn't fast enough to hold the tears back.


	56. When You Land On Your Feet

**Just one chapter and the epilogue now. We're almost finished and it really startled us both to realize it. The next in the series very nearly in the can. What a wild ride for us it's been. I think we've told the story we set out to create and we're hoping that you guys are glad you stayed around for the finish. We would never have been able to keep running without you. You guys are our inspiration just as much as Margot and Chris are. Thank you so much for making this journey just as enjoyable as _Little Secrets_ was. We've learned so much about ourselves as writers and we continue to discover more about our own characters as time goes by. Here's hoping _Blood Will Tell_ will be worth the wait. God knows we've been planning that one for over a year. ;) Yep, we're sneaky like that. Ask any one of our readers. ;)**

* * *

Mercy had found Luthor not far from the plateau. He was dazed from the explosion, and rather than try to escape right then she had merely sought to conceal them both from prying eyes. There was no point in moving during the heat of the day. Not only was the desert landscape dangerously hot, even in January, but the entire area was crawling with searchers. It would be much easier to move undetected at night, and though the desert grew bone-chillingly cold once the sun was down, activity would help keep them warm.

So instead of heading right for the road, she'd coaxed Luthor along the bottom of a rocky arroyo that angled off in the opposite direction. Mercy had explored this terrain in her free time; the stark landscape appealed to her. The desert scenery was breathtakingly beautiful, but for the unwary, such a breath could easily be the last. That combination of magnificence and menace drew her to seek out its secrets.

And one of those secrets was a small cave high on the wall of the arroyo, out of reach of all but the most devastating flash floods. Luthor had recovered enough to understand her plan as soon as she pointed out the cave opening. It was just barely wide enough for one of them to slip through at a time, and the chamber itself had less space than the interior of a compact car. Not comfortable quarters, but with Mercy's camouflage pack blocking the opening except for an air hole, it was nearly invisible.

Her pack was a Camelbak, which had an integrated water storage system with a tube they could drink from. It held sufficient water to keep one person hydrated for a day, easily enough to keep them both safe until nightfall, especially since they were out of the sun and wind.

As she and Luthor lay side by side, occasionally sipping water, they'd heard _four_ search parties sweep through the area. In the near-perfect darkness of the cave, they couldn't share a worried glance, but Mercy had felt the tension in Luthor's body, and he had heard her breathing speed up. They hadn't dared talk, just waited. Either they wouldn't be found, in which case they would keep waiting, or they would be. If they were found, they would decide whether to fight or not based on who discovered them. Cops they could fight; Mercy herself could take down three or more fit, armed men in seconds. But if they were heroes, well, some odds were simply too long, and it wasn't worth getting injured or humiliating themselves.

Finally, the little sliver of light coming in through the gap beside the pack began to darken. Mercy sighed with relief, and Luthor touched her arm once, in silent agreement. It would be very nice to get out of here and…

…from somewhere above them came the crunching of footsteps on loose pebbles. "He's out here somewhere," a voice said, harsh and cold. More footsteps, three or four people. Luthor was tense again; the voice had sounded familiar. Not like one of the cops, more like a hero with vengeance on the mind.

They waited for that group to pass by, and prudently waited some more. Sure enough, _another_ search party passed by, this time walking along the floor of the arroyo. One of them stopped so close to the cave opening that they could hear the man swallow as he drank from his water bottle.

Evidently the searchers knew Luthor had been in the facility until just before it self-destructed, and since they hadn't found his corpse, they were searching diligently. Mercy and Luthor thought the same thing at the same time: _New plan, sit tight until dawn. Until tomorrow night, if necessary._ Not comfortable, not easy, but certainly doable.

The sun went down swiftly in the mountainous desert, and the gap beside Mercy's pack had gone from a bright spot to merely a lighter gray area in the blackness around her. Still, she noticed when it abruptly winked out. Perhaps the searcher's shadow blocked it … but no, she hadn't heard footsteps. So what could be blocking her view? The gap was no more than ten inches from her right hand, she could reach out and feel, but she didn't dare make a move. If they could hear the searcher swallowing, he might hear the tiny scrape of skin on stone.

She got her answer as something warm and smooth touched her hand, sliding across the back of her knuckles. Outside, the searcher moved on, but now Mercy had another reason not to move. Something sleek and firm slid against her forearm, catching slightly on the cuff of her sleeve, then continuing down along her arm to her side. Mercy felt it pressing against her armpit, snuggling close to her warm body.

After a long moment, the gap reopened, and the weak light revealed the back half of the snake that had crawled into the cave with them. It held the last two inches of its tail loft, and Mercy knew perfectly well what sort of snake did that.

"Mercy," Luthor whispered questioningly, his voice softer than the faint breeze picking up outside.

"Rattlesnake," Mercy breathed.

…

"If this is an elaborate plot devised by Luthor to drive me completely out of my mind with sheer boredom, it's working."

Lois was lying back in the bed, a thunderous expression on her face. Forced stillness was wearing on her even in the face of continued pain from her wounds. There was nothing she could do to make life easier for the rest of the family and they were still here because they were waiting for her to be fit to travel. Jason had informed her that Kala was having persistent night terrors. And she had just been forced to submit to her second sponge bath since she had woken from the coma and it was just one too many as far as she was concerned. The immediate threat posed by Luthor over, her children retrieved, Lois Lane was more than ready to be back on her own turf. "I can only sleep fifteen hours straight a couple of times. I need up, I need out of this bed, I need to be doing something. I mean it, Clark. If I have to lay in a damn bed, I can at least do it in Metropolis. Hell, I promise to even stay in the damn hospital without complaining; I just want to get all of us home."

Her husband had been seeing all the signs before now and understood what her real anxiety was over. The longer they stayed in Las Vegas, the longer all of them would be haunted by the last few days. Especially Kala. "That's exactly what I wanted to plan out today," he told her soothingly, taking her hand. "All of us need to be getting home soon. And getting the others home, too." Everyone had gathered in Lois' hospital room for this discussion – and partly to distract her from her growing frustration.

Lois gave him a frustrated sigh, then glared at the IV line as if it had personally offended her. "Well, great. Can we get on with it? I'm so sick of this damn desert. No wonder I always avoid this place."

"Even _you_ need time to heal, Lois," Clark chided, giving her a reproachful look. "The last thing I want is for you to push yourself too hard, too fast. We got too close to losing you once already. I want my wife in one piece for a very, very long time."

Not even Lois could argue with that. But she just couldn't give up without one more potshot. "Yeah, well, you and I both know that the only time I enjoy spending the entire day in bed is when you're in it with me, and that's out via doctor's orders," she muttered, smirking at him. The kids all winced, Kala sticking her fingers in her ears; it was very clear that they thought it was the pain medication had loosened Lois' tongue, rather than a need to startle her husband.

Richard cut in as Clark gave his wife an astounded look. "You're not alone, Lois. Just be glad we're even _discussing_ you transferring to Metropolis. What we really ought to do is sedate you senseless and leave you here until the doctor says it's safe for you to travel."

"Yeah, you try that, flyboy," Lois growled in mock-annoyance, tossing a small box of tissues at him. She was getting her way, from the sounds of things. She could afford to lighten up. "See where it gets you."

The threat didn't faze him, especially since Lois was still walking slowly and deliberately when she was out of bed. "_Anyway_, some of us have businesses to run, kids and dogs to retrieve, that kind of stuff."

"Not to mention getting back in time for school, too," Elise said, and Jason looked at her in surprise. Everyone had lost track of time while the hunt for Kala had raged on. "Winter break's almost over, you know."

Lois glanced at her daughter then, her expression growing a trifle worried. "Well, maybe not all of you. Kala, maybe…"

Kala, perched on the end of Mom's bed, made her thoughts on that known immediately. "Uh-uh. No way. I'm going back to school on time and trying to act like everything is fine. After the BS Giselle spread, it's the only way I can possibly repair my reputation." At the mention of the girl he had thought he had known, Jason looked away, more than a little ashamed. Elise just squeezed his hand.

Lana spoke up gently, taking the girl's hand. "Sweetheart, I think your mom's a little more worried about stress than your reputation."

Kala met her gaze, considering, then turned to her mother. If she were honest with herself, there was nothing more she wanted to do than to hide away from most of what had happened and not think about it. Not dwell on it. But it wasn't an option for her. If she ignored it, it wasn't like it was going away. So there was only one choice here. And she knew it. "Okay, then, so what's the alternative? I sit home and brood about this? For how long? It's not going to magically fix things. No thanks. I'll take school to burying my head in the sand. At least I'll be able to focus on _doing_ something, getting on with my life. My mom won't give up just because of a few stumbling-blocks; why should I?" That earned her a beaming smile from Lois that warmed the girl from head to toe. She couldn't help but grin back.

Ten years of shared parenting duties allowed Richard, Lana, Clark, and Lois to come to an agreement in one swift set of glances. "Kala's right. That might be for the best," Clark finally said. "But you're also going to need to see Dr. Marrin again, munchkin. And a few more family conferences might be in order as well."

The idea didn't exactly thrill Kala, but Dad had a point. Maybe it would make things a little easier. Even if it had to be Mom's zillion-year-old ex that did the head-shrinking. At least she knew how to by-pass the secret with him. "No argument here, I guess. I think it's safe to say that nobody wants a repeat of New Year's Eve, least of all me."

"Let's put it this way, baby. You're not the only one who could use some professional assistance. And you won't be the only one dealing with Elliot," Lois said, smiling sadly at her husband. They had already privately agreed to seek marriage counseling, as difficult as it would be with the things they couldn't confide in even the most discreet therapist.

Clark patted the back of her hand. "Lois, we've got our priorities right again – that's the biggest step in the right direction already accomplished. We'll be fine."

"I'll already be seeing a physical therapist, so what's one more? Yay!" Lois sighed, lifting her right hand. At the moment she couldn't raise it above shoulder-height, or clench her fist tightly and, even then, it gave her considerable pain. That was going to be damned annoying until she got back the full use of her arm. To say the least.

"It's not as though you'll be going alone, you know," Lana told her pointedly, to which Lois nodded. There was going to be an interesting few months ahead of all of them. With that, the group fell to discussing logistics of the various necessary journeys. They had one pilot, one superhero, and plenty of people to move – most without frequent flyer miles. In the midst of their planning, Lois' cell phone rang, which Richard adroitly answered. "Lane-Kent war room, Lieutenant White speaking… Well, hi… You're _where_? … Oh, well maybe we shouldn't have kept you _that_ updated… I'm just yanking your chain, Tobe… She's in the VIP suite. There's a cop at the door, but you're just naturally good with cops." He snickered at the angry cursing on the other end of the line, and hung up with a wicked grin.

Lois had been watching him mistrustfully throughout with one eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that the cavalry is on its way. Somewhere along the line we mentioned which hospital you were in, and your girls decided to fly out here. Tobie and Cat are switching planes as we speak. They'll be here in a couple hours." Richard leaned back with a smug smirk.

Lois hadn't expected that news – but she should have. In spite of all the arguing, the three women always drew together in the face of adversity. She and Cat had gone to Tobie's father's funeral to help her lay old demons to rest; she and Tobie had staged the intervention that had been the first big step toward Cat getting and staying sober. Now the pair of them were determined to be here at her side … and she could _use_ that, especially in light of the most recent message from Laurel. A plan began to evolve in Lois' crafty mind, as the rest of the talk turned to getting everyone else home.

…

Once their plans had been finalized, there had been no more reason to linger. Only Lois and Clark were left in Las Vegas now, while Richard piloted himself, Lana, and the three kids to Smallville. He could've flown back to Metropolis without stopping overnight in Kansas – only a couple hours away, it wasn't even a necessary fuel stop – but that would mean an extra day of separation from Kristin. Besides, the family in Smallville deserved to see Kala whole and well after the stress they'd been through. Furthermore, if he flew there, he could leave the seaplane docked at the lake he landed on, and rent a larger craft to ferry the whole family home at once. It was what they'd originally planned to do, before he and Lana had decided to run off to Las Vegas with a couple of stubborn teenage stowaways.

The flight itself was almost perfect, and Kala dozed off in one of the comfortable seats. She'd been napping on and off, but sudden sounds startled her awake, and she always seemed to wake up primed to fight. Jason kept a wary eye on her, always ready to soothe her when she snapped awake with that haunted expression.

They landed just outside Smallville to find Martha waiting with the old farm truck. Just that look of heartbreak on her grandmother's face had Kala in tears when she walked up to her. _Idiot. You didn't even think what running away would do to her and Grandpa Ben. They could have had a heart attack._ _You need to think before you fly off the handle._ Haunted by the thought, Kala hugged her tighter. Martha held Kala for a long, long moment, stroking her granddaughter's hair, and not even trying to hold back the tears trickling down her face. She said nothing; no words needed to be said. Only once she stepped back from the girl did she say in a husky voice, "Come on, let's get back."

Kala, Jason, and Elise rode in the back of the truck for the short journey to the Kent farmhouse. As soon as Martha turned into the dooryard, pandemonium broke loose. Melodious howls from the house and yard made it sound as if Ben raised gigantic bloodhounds instead of petite beagles, and before the truck had even stopped a pack of the dogs had gathered around, baying excitedly. Elise looked alarmed at the sheer volume of noise, but Jason just rolled his eyes and yelled, "Hush!"

That worked for most of them, the hounds subsiding to whimpers, but one dog suddenly screamed as if in mortal pain. Martha's face went white as she got out of the truck, certain she'd accidentally run over one of the dogs – all the beagles were car-wise and knew not to venture into the road or to approach any vehicle too closely, but in the excitement…

Still shrieking in sheer glee, Bagel did her best to scale the tires toward Jason's voice. He and Kala quickly jumped down from the truck bed to soothe her, but she kept up her crying as she leaped up to lick them both. Elise couldn't help laughing at the spectacle, especially when Dusty started howling at _his_ owners as they got out of the truck. Surrounded by a throng of delighted dogs, Martha could only catch Elise's eye and sigh heavily. "You can't feel unappreciated with hounds in the house – but a word of advice, my dear. Never marry a beagler."

The family was pouring out of the house in the wake of the dogs, and Kristin made a beeline for her mother. Lana swept her up and kissed her, only to have Kristin start to struggle a moment later, stretching her arms to Richard. Once she'd snuggled both parents, she scrambled out of their arms and went straight for Kala.

The black-haired girl was already half-kneeling, trying to keep half a dozen beagle tongues off her face, when Kristin launched at her. She was knocked sprawling, Kristin hugging her and yelling her name. Again with the tears. Oh God, she had missed her baby sister. "Little K, Little K," Kala laughed, squeezing her tight.

"You _left_ me!" Kristin yelled, her face red and streaked with tears. Kala couldn't remember the last time she had seen the little one like this. "An' then Daddy Clark and Lolo left, and Mommy and Daddy left, and Jason an' Elise left, and I had t' come to Grandma's house, all 'cuz _you left_! And you scared everybody! Why, Kala, _why_?"

Why, indeed? Because of a stupid rumor, because of the momentary melodramatic belief that everyone in the family hated her and would be better off without her? It was easy to read the answer in the Dormouse's face. "Teenagers are dumb sometimes, Little K," Kala tried to explain, tears of her own welling up.

Kristin sniffled angrily. "I'm never growin' up."

That statement was greeted by relieved laughter as the family came back together. There were still many individual reunions and a couple of scoldings to be had – Lucy was already eyeing Jason – as well as news to share and plans to make, but for the first time it felt like everything was really going to be all right.

…

Back at the hospital, Lois made it clear she wasn't going to stay a moment longer than she had to since her girls were on the way. In short order, she had cajoled Clark into agreeing with her plans before harassing the nurses into removing her IV lines. Getting out of bed and staying upright had been another hurdle to execute.

"I am _not_ staying in bed," she growled under her breath, and let go of the chair she'd used to stand, attempting to walk to the window.

For a few steps she was all right, but her attempt to move with her customary confidence and vitality caused a twinge in her shoulder and a warning ache in her side. Both pains at once cut her stride short, and Lois stumbled. Clark was right there, catching her elbow to hold her upright. "Take it easy."

"I don't know the meaning of the phrase." Lois smirked as she said it, and held onto him for a moment before letting go gently and trying again.

"I could bring you a dictionary," Clark offered, moving to catch her again when she laughed and almost tripped. Her only answer was a smile, grateful that he alone was witnessing her weakness.

Clark stood back and watched with a calculating eye as Lois made her way around the room, more and more confidently. She wasn't up to full steam yet, still moving a bit gingerly, but she was clearly getting steadier on her feet rather than wearing herself out. A little smile played about his lips; of course Lois throve on long odds and challenge. If it was medically impossible for her to be up and walking with those injuries, then she was determined to get up and run.

"All right, love. I'm convinced." That got him a winning grin and a kiss before he set out to fetch her clothes. He paused in the corridor; the ones she'd been wearing had been cut off in the emergency room. Even if they hadn't been, the fabric was too deeply blood-stained to ever be wearable again. Realizing that gave him a chill; it had been so close this time. Instead he headed over to the hotel to get her suitcase.

He leaned against the door while she got dressed; that was further proof of her self-sufficiency, and though she was slow without the full use of her hand, Lois managed it. Only once she was out of the detested hospital gown and into one of her suits did Clark force himself to face the truth: she was really going to do this. They would really be separated, probably for most of the next day.

"We both know I'd rather be with you," Clark murmured as Lois adjusted her cuffs. She hadn't bothered to take off the plastic hospital bracelet yet, not having scissors or a knife to cut it off with, and just shoved it up her sleeve for now.

The smile that she gave him then proved just how determined she was to get things back to normal. "It's okay, honey. I'd rather you were looking for that rat-bastard. Actually, I'd feel a lot better about everyone on the move with you looking for him. That's what _I_ want. And I'll be fine with Cat and Tobie. There's not that much trouble that I can get into with only a non-stop flight home. The wardens will make sure of that. Not to mention the fact that I'm good and medicated right now. It's only a few hours. I'll see you at the hospital tonight, okay?"

"Just be safe," he sighed, and tilted her chin up for a kiss.

Her smile grew impish just before their lips met. "I'll try. No promises. Trouble finds me, remember?"

What had been planned as a quick kiss quickly became more than an affectionate peck, especially with the recent reminder of their mortality. Lois lost herself in his arms, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss him and run the fingers of her good arm through his hair. It was a little awkward, her bum arm still at her side, but they managed with his arm around her waist. The rest of the world gradually disappeared, the pair of them concentrating only on each other and the first real time they'd had alone together since Lois had been shot. For this one moment, it was just the two of them…

Only they weren't as alone as they thought. "Well, it's nice to see the both of you getting along again," Lois and Clark heard Tobie crack from the doorway. "Good thing we're in a hospital, in case you choke the poor man with your tongue."

The pair of them pulled away from each reluctantly, Lois rolling her eyes with great drama at the _Star_ reporter. "Yeah, good to see you too, Raines. And you're just jealous you don't get goodbyes like this. You really ought to talk to Maggie about it."

"Who says I don't?" Tobie challenged smugly, crossing her arms.

At that, Cat elbowed her in the side and went over to hug Lois gingerly. "Oh, Lo, never mind her. We both know she worried about you, that's why she's being such a pain. Some things never change."

Hugging the blonde back, Lois smirked affectionately at her fellow newshound over Cat's shoulder. "I know. And I forgive her for it. God knows I'm used to it." Tobie could only smirk back.

Clark couldn't resist smiling at their antics; the peculiar dynamics of Lois' friendships had always left him bemused. "Ladies, I'm going to trust you to get Lois safely to Met Gen."

"You're not coming back with us?" Cat asked, her brow furrowed.

"I still have to give a statement to the police, and wrap up a few other things." He and Lois had decided to use that excuse to cover for his rendezvous with the JLA. Now that the rest of the family was heading home, he couldn't resist the pull of duty. The Luthor fiasco was _his_ mess, and it went against every instinct for him to allow anyone else to clean it up.

Since Lois was fine with that, neither Cat nor Tobie questioned it. With another kiss, a hug, and still another kiss from his wife, Clark left. Lois headed for the nurses' station to sign herself out, trailed by her two best friends. As she was transferring to another hospital, she didn't get much argument about leaving.

Only once they were on the shuttle to the airport did Tobie and Cat simultaneously lean forward to transfix Lois with identical calculating stares. "Dish, Lane. I know you've got something up your sleeve," the brunette said.

Lois grinned. "Well, we're going to Met Gen just like I told everyone … just not right away. I got this message from my secretary…"

…

The investors had arrived unannounced and unexpectedly, claiming an urgent need to speak with the editor in chief and the heads of the various departments. Perry escorted them to the conference room, with Ron standing in for Clark. Perry himself had covered City the past few days, but he brought Laurel along to take notes for Lois.

Half a dozen men filed in and took seats opposite the group from the paper. Perry knew most of them, and he stolidly met their gazes: Cooper, Newman, Hollis, Neal, and finally Eastlake. With them was a man he didn't know, but something of the cut of his suit and the briefcase he carried said 'lawyer' to Perry's journalistic eye. He could feel his own people's restlessness, like static electricity crackling behind him, but he took his own seat with icy calm. "Well?"

The lawyer spoke up. "Mr. White, I am Juan Dominguez of the law firm of Yates, Peckin, and Friedkin. I represent these gentlemen of the firms Eagle Capital Investments and Vanderworth Holdings LLC. We are here today to discuss the disposition of your newspaper."

"The _Planet's_ disposition is hard-boiled bordering on surly, like it's always been," Perry retorted.

"Have a care, Mr. White," Douglas cautioned. Perry merely harrumphed.

Mr. Dominguez continued after a brief pause, "As I'm certain you are aware, shares of your paper's stock have been heavily traded in the past few weeks. As of this moment, these gentlemen and their firms have amassed a controlling interest of 42.8% of the _Daily Planet_."

He had to stop again as gasps sounded from Perry's side of the table, but the chief just looked bored. Perry gave a negligent wave of his hand for the man to continue.

"Mr. White, these gentlemen and their corporations have express serious concerns about the management and policies of the newspaper. As you are aware, the terms of the stock offering require that the manager of the newspaper be accountable to the stockholders. Under those terms, these gentlemen have expressed a profound lack of confidence in the current management, and we are here today to request, for the good of the paper, your immediate resignation…." Perry's side of the desk buzzed with outraged murmurs, and Dominguez had to raise his voice to continue, "…and that of certain heads of departments, as follows: Clark Kent of International, Lois Lane-Kent of City, James Olsen of Photography…"

Pandemonium broke out as Laurel sent an urgent text from her cell phone hidden under the table. There was no reason to attack those specific people other than spite; Jimmy in particular was management in name only, and his photos had only brought increasing circulation to the paper. The department heads shouted Dominguez down, and Susannah Thaxter from Accounting leaped to her feet. "If Lois was here you wouldn't _dare_ say that to her face!"

"And doesn't that speak volumes, that your chosen successor can't even be bothered to be present for such an important meeting," Mr. Newman retorted in such a stentorian voice that he momentarily silenced the paper's staff. "Neither her nor her husband, and that's hardly good business practice, is it, letting husband and wife work in competing departments?"

Perry felt his blood begin to boil, rising from his chair. These bastards knew perfectly well why Lois wasn't here; these were Luthor's lapdogs, running his errands. But before the first furious word could form on his tongue, the conference room door burst open.

Lois strolled in, head held high, as cool and calm as if she were walking into a family barbecue. True, she was very pale, and moved a little more stiffly than usual, but she was _there_ in suit and heels. Laurel beamed at the unexpected sight of her, while everyone else stared with jaws dropping. They all knew by now that she'd been shot, but here she was – and in a fine temper by the frosty gleam in her eyes.

Resting her left hand on Perry's shoulder to quell him, Lois propped her right on her hip and met the eyes of each of the startled investors. She was deeply grateful for the pain pill she'd taken on the way over, especially since it was the first time she tried to angle her wounded shoulder, and for the support and encouragement of Tobie and Cat, who were leaning against the doorjambs with wicked grins on their faces. "Well, boys?" Lois drawled. "Surprised to see me?"

"Mrs. Lane-Kent," the lawyer began, but Lois cut him off.

"My husband would be here as well, but he's escorting the twins home from Las Vegas. Kala's been through enough without being stuck there any longer." The room seemed to grow several degrees colder just from her expression, which grew catlike. "You all thought you were so smart, didn't you? Letting a coward like Luthor tell you what to do. You knew damn well where I was, and you waited 'til Clark and I were out of the picture to spring your trap. I _do_ hate to disappoint you, but you've wasted a trip." She glared at them like a snake glaring at mice that didn't have the common sense to flee.

"Mrs. Lane-Kent, you may be unaware that these gentlemen currently possess a controlling interest in the _Daily Planet_," Dominguez informed her.

Impatient with that, Newman cut in. "We _own_ your paper, Lane. So I suggest you start behaving with the proper respect. We've asked for your resignation, and we've the power to enforce that if you won't comply."

Lois looked at Dominguez and her smile was almost cruel. "Gentlemen? I don't see any gentlemen at the table, with one exception. All I see are a bunch of errand boys and moneychangers, so deep in Luthor's pockets they can't get out again." She rounded on Newman and leaned across the desk, seeming to brace herself on her hands while actually taking her weight with the left. She didn't notice the hospital bracelet slide down her arm, but everyone else did, staring fixedly at the proof that she had literally gotten up out of a hospital bed just to give the investors a righteous chewing-out. "As for you, I'll happily show you the respect you _deserve_, and tell you what a belly-crawling chickenshit bootlicker you are."

"_How dare you!_" Newman roared, slamming his hands down on the table.

"I dare because I'm better informed that you are, you fat old toad," Lois spat back with eyes blazing. The ice had burned away now, leaving only wrath. "I am a _reporter_, after all! And I know a few things you don't – such as the fact that your precious 'Mr. Roth' still hasn't been found, which means he's probably lost in the middle of the Nevada desert, with some very upset police and federal agents searching for him. Not to mention one _very_ angry superhero."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, young woman," he said haughtily.

"Yeah, any more than you had any idea of someone attempting to seduce me into cooperation. Good luck there, by the way. Next time pick someone who hasn't walked through fire for the relationship she's got."

Newman's gaze didn't waver, but Hollis couldn't resist turning toward Eastlake. The younger man was sitting calmly, his hands folded, watching all this as if it were a poker tournament on television. Only Eastlake saw the tiniest glance and nod that Lois directed his way, mute forgiveness and understanding. Somehow she had gotten the rest of the story.

Newman retreated behind stuffy language after this exchange, a vein in his temple throbbing with rage. "It seems your recent family difficulties have unhinged your mind, to make such baseless accusations."

Lois scoffed. "About what I expected you to say. I can tell you one thing you _can_ confirm, however. None of you did research within the last twenty-four hours. If you had, you'd know that _you don't own this paper_. You are _minority_ share holders. There are three entities which together comprise a clear majority of 51% of the stock: Perry White, Lana Lang, and _the employees_. _We_ own this paper."

Expressions of shock from all the investors except Eastlake. "You lie," Hollis thundered.

The bluster just increased Lois' amusement. She couldn't face down Luthor at this moment, and she knew that trying to take the _Planet_ had been a back-up plan, but she'd content herself with striking back at Luthor this way. Although not nearly as satisfying as going for the man himself, these bureaucratic blowhards made a reasonable substitute. Even the pain was worth it. "Why bother when the truth is a click away. Get your lawyer to look it up on his laptop, there," Lois challenged.

Mr. Dominguez promptly did so. All gathered saw the disbelief in his eyes before he even opened his mouth. He looked a little paler under that rich tan, as well. "Ah, gentlemen, it appears the lady is correct. Additionally, we are short by 10% of the projected number of shares."

All heads turned toward Eastlake, who simply smiled. "I promised to amass a share of _Daily Planet_ stock, and to turn that stock over to Prometheus Corporation on this date. I keep my promises, gentlemen. You have received the stock certificate for exactly one share."

"You … you…" Hollis glowered, unable to voice his rage, before Eastlake turned calm eyes on his mentor.

"Mr. Hollis, I believe you will find it advantageous to seek other employment. My father's company no longer requires your services. And that is a decision that I, as CEO, retain the right to make. Furthermore, gentlemen, while our business partnership has been a long and fruitful one, I have no wish to further involve ECI in the dealings of L-Tech, Vanderworth Limited, or Prometheus Corp."

Lois crossed her arms with a triumphant grin. No one present saw what it was costing her to force the movements and that was just the way Lois wanted it. She couldn't appear weak. Not for an instant. This just had to go on a little longer now. "Well, in that case, 'gentlemen' – and I use the term loosely – it is with great pleasure that I invite you all to pack your shit and _get the hell out of my building_. Except for Eastlake, of course. We'll be retaining him for obvious reasons." She glanced at Perry, who was beaming at her. "Sound good to you, Chief?"

"Sounds fantastic," the older man said gruffly. "Now get lost, you pack of jackals, before I call security and turn you out."

Lois' smile grew even more predatory. "Oh, not to worry. They're already on their way up – I took the liberty of making a call on my way in. Good day, boys. If you ever try this again, we'll be waiting for you. And this will look like child's play."

"Atta girl," Perry said, and would have clapped a hand to her shoulder if not for the sudden warning look in her eyes. He settled for a very gentle pat on her back as the investors filed out with stunned expressions.

There were laughter and high-fives all around. The _Planet_ employees lingered, all of them congratulating Lois, none noticing that she was leaning quite heavily on the edge of the table rather than showing her usual high spirits after a battle well-won. Perry saw that her complexion had gone even paler, and shooed the rest away. All alive with such a triumphant win, they hurried back to their own departments to share the news. Jimmy, Ron, and Laurel all hung back as Perry walked beside his heir apparent, and Cat and Tobie applauded as they left the room.

Only once all of the other employees were out of sight did Lois stumble, and even then Perry was ready with an arm around her waist. Ron quickly got her good arm over his shoulder while Jimmy grabbed a chair for her. "I'm fine, I just need another pill," she protested.

Jimmy was the first to speak up, helping her into the chair. "Lois, you're crazy. I can't believe you just did that. You just got out of the hospital…"

That brought up a good point. "Lane, what the hell _are_ you doing out of the hospital?" Perry snapped.

"Making a point – _ow!_ Dammit, that hurts!" She had tried to shrug, forgetting her shoulder, and now swore under her breath. God, it had worked, but this hadn't been one of her brightest moments. _Holy shit, this sucks._

"I don't remember Lucy texting me that you were stopping by before you checked in at Met Gen. Why do I get this feeling like Clark doesn't know you're here?" Ron asked sternly. Lois' refusal to meet his gaze was all the answer he needed. "For God's sake, Lois."

She frowned at all of them, then. Maybe a reality-check was needed here. "Well, it worked, didn't it? It showed a united front, even if one of us is jacked-up, and makes it clear that I'm not just a trophy. Luthor was going to take Perry's paper, my paper, _our_ paper, just because he thought he could. And to get back at my family. And I needed to let them know it'll be, literally, over my dead body."

Silence reigned for a time after that. Lois had a point. Then Perry uttered a long-suffering sigh and looked heavenward. "Great Caesar's ghost, Lane, what're you trying to do, get your picture in the dictionary next to 'stubborn'?"

She gave him a affectionate smile, small as it was. Sheer will was keeping her from demanding another painkiller. "I would, Chief, but I wouldn't want to bump you out of that spot."

"Very funny," he groused. "Well, since I can't trust the competition here with my reporter's health, I'm going to send you on to Met Gen in the care of your secretary. Laurel, if she doesn't go straight there and check herself in, you thump her upside the head and drag her by the heels, you hear me?"

"Yes, Chief," Laurel said with a grin. "Come on, Lois. We might just get you in before the rest of the family arrives. And just maybe we can work it out so Clark doesn't know what you've been up to. At least for a while." Helping her out of the chair, she winked at the others over Lois' shoulder and received solemn nods in return. She'd at least earned herself a head-start in that department. Tobie and Cat followed as they made their way up the hallway.

Tobie couldn't resist a laugh. "Not bad, Lane. And you managed not to land on your face. Chalk that up to one more unbelievable tale about you being bullet-proof."

"Yeah, well. Next thing you know, the _Star_ will start getting me mixed up with You-Know-Who rather than linking me with him," Lois snarked back.

For once, Tobie just smiled.

But Cat couldn't resist teasing her friend one more time when the four of them entered the elevator. "Sounds like you've earned yourself a hot date with another _sponge bath_, Mrs. Lane-Kent."

"Kiss my ass, Grant."

…

Sebast knew he was getting crazy looks as he ran up the hall, dodging people who swarmed past him. Even at this smaller airfield, the corridors were full of pilots, passengers, and cargo handlers. It had already been after three-fifteen when he had gotten out of the car, so he had to run. He couldn't miss them.

Sebast had fought to be here, called upon every bit of credit for good behavior he had stored with his parents, cajoled and threatened and harangued, and finally pleaded to the ultimate authority in the house: _Abuelita_. She adored Kala, even called her _nieta_, and the feeling was quite mutual. When Sebast explained the situation to her, she patted his hand and went to speak to his father. The next day Sebast found himself in the car on the way to the airport at which Kala – along with the rest of the Lane-Kents, Troupes, and Whites – was expected to arrive.

He slowed when he reached the concourse, sighing with relief when he spotted familiar faces. As he'd expected, he wasn't the only one there. The Metropolis contingent had turned out in force, Ron Troupe and Perry White eager to see their wives and children, and keeping well back of the rest Sebast noticed a certain blond head he would just as soon not have seen. Just because Nick had helped him and Elise didn't mean the college boy was forgiven. Making his way over to the others, Sebast was greeted with warm surprise, even if they gave him hell over the grounding. All was well. He was still considered family after this fiasco. He'd never been more relieved.

Then the passengers were disembarking, Bryan running up to his dad, Lucy flying into Ron's arms. The others made their way up with smiles and laughter, Kristin riding on Richard's shoulders. Sebast realized after a moment that neither Lois nor Clark was amongst them. He started to turn and ask, but overheard Perry's wife comment that Lois had arrived a few hours earlier in care of the twins' Aunt Cat and Aunt Tobie and that Clark was taking a later flight. He'd just heard this before Sebast saw Jason emerge from the hallway, with Elise to one side of him and another girl on the other…

He hadn't known until that moment just how frightened he'd been. Everyone had told him that Kala was coming home, but some tiny part of his soul hadn't believed it until he actually saw that incredibly black hair. And then she looked up.

Kala's eyes caught his at the same moment, and a look of sheer disbelief crossed her face. She looked stricken when her eyes met his. Hadn't she known he would be here? But in the next instant she smiled and shared a glance with her brother, letting go of his hand, and before either of them really knew what was happening Sebast and Kala were running toward each other.

Kala flung her arms around his neck, crying and laughing at the same time, he grabbed her around the waist, and they hugged so tightly his ribs hurt. Neither said a word for a time, just holding on to each other. Half smothered by the hood of his jacket, she still managed to whisper, "I missed you so much…"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should never have believed her," Sebast told her, squeezing her extra tight. The relief just kept on coming. She was here, she was alive. She was home. No one could take her away again. A lock of hair had fallen into her face and he smoothed it back for her. "_Mi_ Kala, how I missed you."

"I'm sorry I acted like an idiot and I did something that stupid. I should have told you what was going on," she replied, and leaned back a little to smile at him. Her mascara was smearing from the tears in her eyes, but this was his Kala, his best friend in the whole wide world, and seeing something so ordinary as smeared makeup brought it home to Sebast that he could've lost her for good.

He wanted to tell her how much he adored her, how much he had missed her, and how glad he was that she'd made it home safely, but there were no words in English or Spanish sufficient to do so. Instead, Sebast caught the nape of Kala's neck and kissed her.

And not just kissed her, but dipped her back like she was Scarlett to his Rhett Butler. Sebast didn't see the shocked look on her face, but he felt the moment when she decided to just go with it and kissed him back.

He heard the startled laughter from the family after a moment and remembered that they weren't the only two people on the face of the earth. And he'd just kissed – was still kissing – his best friend. Sebast broke the kiss and hauled Kala upright, noticing the surprised and quite pleased expression on her face. Oh, now _that_ was gonna be awkward later on…

At least until he swatted her upside the head. "What the hell did you think you were doing anyway, running off without telling _anyone_ where you were? If you _ever_ pull some bullshit like that again, _pendeja_, you damn well better tell me so I can come with you!"

Meanwhile Kristin tugged on her father's hair. Richard glanced up to meet her blue eyes. "Daddy, is Sebast mad at Kala for being stupid and running away?"

"Yeah, a little bit." Richard replied, "She scared him pretty bad, too."

"Good, maybe she won't do it again," Kristin said petulantly, and her father chuckled.

Kala threw her head back and laughed with relieved disbelief, and Sebast grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I'm not kidding, _blanquita_! You pull this shit on me again, I'll beat you so hard your children'll be born bruised!" Kala wheezed and flung her arms around his neck, knowing that from Sebast, who loved her almost as much as Jason did, the overblown threat simply proved how much he'd worried about her.


	57. These Twists and Turns of Fate

**All over but the epilogue. Planning for the closing party is coming up; it may be delayed for my birthday, which will be the same day we regularly post, and I'll be in Orlando. Anissa and I are going to discuss it at dinner tonight. Keep your eyes on my profile for details as soon as we have them. I hope at least a few of you can join us. There's so many things we can show you guys now that it's almost over. I hope everyone has enjoyed the ride and that it's been worth the time you've invested. Enjoy!**

* * *

With a variety of super-powers at their disposal, the League had already cleared both survivors and casualties from the Nevada site. There had been many more of the latter, but enough of the former to raise their hopes. "Unfortunately most of them have identified themselves as part of the security force," Dinah was saying as they walked down the path cleared through the debris. "They're all ex-cons with violent offenses on record, and their knowledge of the operation here amounts to nothing. Some type of research was going on involving crystals, that's the most we've gotten."

Kal-El breathed a small sigh of relief at that, and Dinah continued, "They also don't seem to know a lot about the personnel. Most of them know about Luthor's vendetta and his prior crimes, but they didn't know who Zod was, just that he had some sort of powers and was important enough to Luthor to be beyond any retaliation. They also don't seem to know anything about Kala, except that she injured several of them before Zod took her under his protection."

It still made Kal-El queasy to think of his foe watching over his daughter, but the end result was that she hadn't been harassed by Luthor's goons. "At least he didn't tell them all everything he knows about me."

Dinah shook her head. "He never would. Knowledge is power, and his type doesn't share power. If he told his henchmen, one of them would eventually leak it, and his advantage would be lost."

Of course Kal-El knew that about Luthor, but it was a lot easier to be academic about what he would or wouldn't do when it wasn't _your_ identity, your family, your entire life. "What about the crystals?"

"The place is riddled with them," Dinah said. "Most of the doors had access panels made out of crystal. There's a medical section with a huge crystal assemblage in it, which we're guessing is some sort of diagnostic device – it's in pieces now. We found a room full of crystal screens, which we assume was the surveillance center. But the part I think will interest you the most is right down here. We just uncovered it today; most of the explosives seemed set to destroy this specific area."

The broad tunnel they'd been walking down ended with a vertical shaft, down which Kal-El carefully dropped. He found himself in much more cramped quarters, with fragments of crystal grating underfoot at each step. He had to crouch down to make his way to the end of the tunnel, and then the sight that met his eyes wrung a gasp from him.

The crystal console from the Fortress was still recognizable, even though the upper portion of it had been shattered by the collapsing roof. Kal-El had known Luthor had access to the information on the crystals, but to see such an essential component of the Fortress recreated here, in the monster's lair, was still a blow to his psyche. _Considering that he's put the crystals to so much use here, I have no choice but to agree to Bruce's plan. Luthor's clearly several years ahead of what L-Tech actually markets, and if I want to keep him from monopolizing the technology, I have to hand it over to someone I trust._

They still hadn't found Luthor himself, and Kal-El had already accepted the fact that his nemesis had probably made a clean escape. _But I will never stop hunting him – and Lois has all sorts of information on L-Tech now. We're closer to finding him and putting him away for good._

He remembered that Dinah was waiting above, and called out to her, "It's what I hoped I wouldn't find. Just a moment." Kal-El nearly had to crawl to reach the console, and he carefully braced his shoulder against the roof before snapping a few crystals off the side. But when he reached inside to remove a knowledge crystal, his hand met only emptiness. A quick check with his x-ray vision revealed the rest were gone as well. Of course Luthor had moved those components before the showdown – he _always_ had a backup plan, someplace to retreat to.

Dispirited, Kal-El worked his way back to Dinah's side, ready to start his own stint as part of the recovery team. Dusting crystal fragments off his hands, he told her, "If you see Bruce before I do, tell him Wayne Tech can have everything they can salvage. There's nothing left here for me."

…

Nick should have known better than to show up like this, especially in light of his involvement with Kala, maybe even more so because he'd had a hand in Jason's girlfriend being able to stow away. Really, he had been surprised when Sawyer had left the voicemail telling him when and where Kala's family would arrive home. Maybe one of them approve, since she'd been willing to at least let him see the girl was safe. Weird that it was the cop, out of all the options, but maybe she felt duty-bound to tell him.

After the way things had gone the last time he'd encountered the extended family, Nick hung back. The twins' three uncles, already present, had glanced in his direction when she had first approached and he saw the looks traded amongst them. That hadn't been a real surprise; all three of them had close ties to Kala and had no real reason to trust him. He could understand that. Because of that, he stayed several feet behind them and kept his gaze on the gate ahead. Kala's opinion was what mattered right now.

His nerves were like piano wire by the time the discussion between the three picked up in earnest. Checking his watch, Nick realized that it was nearly time. He had just made the decision to move in closer when someone ran past him to his left. What had to be a young man in a gray hoodie darted over to them. The boy's hands were uncovered and he only knew one person it could be. _Sebast_. _I should have known._ Almost immediately on his walking up, the older men spotted him with grins. Immediately they began to harass him, Kala's uncle Ron catching the top of the hood and shaking it. Something about hacking his hair off, it sounded like. Nick tried not to care about the ease and warmth with which the Latino boy was received. _They've known him for two years and he's not a threat. Get over yourself. _

When the new arrivals deplaned, he quickly lost sight of the four of them in the crush. He was trying to spot her in the crowd, the sounds of over a dozen people having joyous reunions adding to the distraction. Once he managed to find his way through, he got a clear view just in time to see Sebast kiss Kala. A dull flush of anger crept up his neck at that, but he stifled it. Hard. She wasn't even his girl, after all – they hadn't really been dating before this, and after New Year's Eve he didn't know if she wanted to ever see him again. And besides, he knew Sebast was her best friend. Her _gay_ best friend. Even if that kiss didn't look particularly platonic at the moment.

He waited while Sebast shook her and cursed her, while Kala laughed and enjoyed it, and saw the moment when the Latino boy's hoodie fell back. Kala stopped entirely then, yelping at the sight of his dramatically shortened hair and looking aggrieved. Sebast raked his hand through it. "I had to pretend to be Jason, so he could sneak out to look for you, and I couldn't pass for him with my hair that long," he heard him say in a voice that was trying for nonchalance.

Kala looked staggered this revelation, on the verge of tears. _Over hair? Really?_ "Oh my God, Sebast. You cut your hair for me?" Nick gritted his teeth at that tone. It sounded like the kind of syrupy squeal you'd hear from a group of teenage girls looking at puppies in a pet shop window. Not something he would ever have expected to hear out of someone like her. Sebast said something half-sheepishly while Kala bit her lip and stroked the shorn locks.

Nick was getting a little impatient about then with all the lovey-dovey stuff, feeling like he really shouldn't have shown up anyway. Most of the parents were drifting off, not paying a lot of attention to the kids in this relatively safe space. The only other person here he'd met more than once was Elise, and she was glued to Jason's side. He was the outsider, the stranger, the one who didn't belong, the idiot still trying to talk to a girl five years too young for him.

That was when Kala spotted him. For a moment their eyes met and they both froze. That piercing hazel stare had always transfixed him like that; Kala herself might be sixteen, but her eyes were timeless, at once new-minted and a thousand years old. Nick looked into them and saw surprise, anger, and confusion.

He was close enough, however, to hear Sebast say, "He was looking all over for you. That's how your Aunt Maggie found him. And he helped me and Elise and Jason." The younger boy's voice was grudging but fair.

Nick approached her slowly, Kala watching his every move. "I owe you an apology," he said quietly.

"You think so?" Kala asked, her voice neutral. She didn't seem quite like the girl he'd known a scant week ago. Kala carried herself differently, she seemed more wary and less spontaneous – it seemed like she'd done a few years' worth of growing up practically overnight. At the same time, the air of polished elegance she spent so much time cultivating was gone, leaving her seeming younger and more vulnerable.

"Yeah. I mean, it shouldn't have gone that far. I was the one who was supposed to know what I was doing. I should've stopped it. So … I got too caught up. I'm sorry." He gave a little shrug, rueful, worried about how she would react. The last time he'd seen her, she had looked terrified, bailing out of his car and running into the night. All because he'd been too swept away to pay attention to the time.

Kala was quiet a moment, just looking at him speculatively. And it was clear from the way she was worrying her lower lip that she was considering what she was going to say. He truly wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision. Sighing out that breath, she gave him a small smile. "Nick, look. I'm in a kinda screwed-up place right now. A lot just happened and it's probably going to take a little while to get my shit together. I liked you a lot. I would never have gotten into that car if I didn't. I still do, but…" Kala heaved another heavy sigh. "But I'm not in a good place to try a relationship or anything. Things are going to be pretty weird for me for I don't know how long, but I'm gonna try to get back to where I was. Feel like sticking around while I do that?"

For a second there he thought she was going to totally blow him off, which would've been understandable. It hurt more than he'd expected to think about, but he couldn't say he wasn't half-expecting it. The only reason he came here today was to give her the apology he owed her. Nick hadn't expected anything more than that, certainly not that they'd pick up where they left off. "I'm not asking for anything from you," he said, raising both hands to show his empty palms. "Except maybe the chance to do this right. I started out as the guy who made sure you didn't ride the subway alone. Maybe I can still be that guy, only this time I'll be the guy who's met your family and your friends and your brother. Everything aboveboard and honest, no sneaking around like idiots. We were pretty good as friends – wanna try that?"

"Enough. You're not a bad guy, Nick. You're not the Big Bad Wolf and you didn't attack me in the woods. Stop beating yourself up, okay? Two to tango." Kala was smiling a little more now. "And I'd really like to try. A girl can never have too many friends. Or bodyguards." Glancing over her shoulder at Elise and Sebast, she added, her tone grateful, "Besides, a little birdie just told me that you had a hand in The Great Escape. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't helped Elise and Jase get on that plane, and they only managed that because you helped her and Sebast sneak in. I think that would earn you 'friend' status even if I didn't already consider you one." She paused for a minute then before leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Nick."

When she kissed him, he wrapped his arms around her – gently, so she could avoid it if she wanted to. She stiffened but didn't pull away, so he held her tight for a long moment and whispered in her ear. "I was so worried about you, Kala. I didn't know what was going on, and when someone finally told me … when they found me to tell me … I didn't know what to think besides being scared half out of my mind."

She hugged him back tightly before pulling away. "You weren't alone. I didn't know what was happening either. But you know what? I'm alive, I'm okay, and I'm not going to do anything that dumb again."

"Good, because it's totally out of character for a smart kid like you," Nick retorted with that familiar wicked grin.

…

Richard saw Lana's eyes narrow, and followed her gaze to Kala and Nick. She didn't say anything about it, though by her expression there was going to be a Serious Family Discussion regarding the college boy at some point in the near future. That was fine by him – they needed to talk about Nick. So far as Richard was concerned, the boy had proven that his motives regarding Kala were, if not innocent, at least not wholly base. If Kala wanted to date him – and if the relationship could survive parental scrutiny – then Richard was willing to let her. What Lois and Clark had to say about it remained to be seen, but from her expression as she watched them Lana's vote would be a decisive NO.

He also saw Jason and Elise draw away from the reunion in progress when Michelle almost ran them down to get to her daddy. Sensible kids, to get away from the stampede. The pair headed for a quiet space, which happened to be over by Richard himself. Richard grinned at them, shrugging lightly to bounce Kristin where she rode on his shoulders. "Don't worry, one-third of the Terrible Trio is safely confined; you can only get trampled by two." Kristin giggled at the reference. She, Bryan, and Michelle were all born within about a year, and tended to flock together in gatherings.

"Two's enough," Jason sighed, and Elise smiled wanly. This _was_ a lot of noise and bustle after the past few days spent mostly in the company of the four parents.

"You guys ready to get out of here?" Richard said.

Jason shuffled his feet a little before he spoke. "Yeah, but … I want to walk Elise home. Well, you know, go with her on the subway. Her parents aren't home yet and, well, I don't want her to be alone. At least not 'til she's safely home. So…"

Elise snickered, and Richard smiled. Trust Jason to be thinking of others, even now. "We all should be getting home…"

His voice faltered, and he turned to Lana as he realized that the two of them couldn't go home. He had no idea if the Metropolis police were finished processing their apartment, and even if they were, even if those horrible bloodstains had been cleaned away, could he really ask Lana to walk back into the place where she'd nearly died? The place where she'd taken another woman's life, in defense of herself and their daughter? Could Lana ever walk into that kitchen again without remembering the blood and terror of that day?

She took his hand, her green eyes perfectly steady. "Richard, we probably can't go home yet. And even when we get the all clear, the carpets will have to be replaced, the walls will have to be repainted… We'll have to hire a professional cleaning service."

"Are you sure?" he asked, peripherally aware that Jason and Elise had both gone pale with the reminder. They hadn't even seen the carnage, had only heard about it, but it was still vivid in their minds from the description.

"I will not let Luthor drive me out of my home," Lana said, and in her voice was the steel so rarely glimpsed beneath her gracious exterior.

Jason spoke up then. "You guys can stay at our place, you know. We'll have to shuffle around a bit, but I'd rather have you all there instead of worrying about you staying in a hotel. I bet Kala would rather have you there, too, especially with how Little K wants to cling right now. And you know Dad would insist. Mom would, too."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Richard replied, feeling quite the same way. Safety in numbers had worked out pretty well for them thus far, even until they were sure Luthor was no longer a threat. "I also think you accompanying Elise home is a good idea. We'd like to keep her around a while." He shot her a grin then, trying to take some of the bite out what he knew her parents were going to do next.

Elise returned it, even if it looked a rough around the edges at the reminder. "You might not get that if I go home, but hey." She glanced up at Jason with something that couldn't be misconstrued as anything other than love. Jason returned it just as strongly. "He's worth it. Both he and Kala are, really. Just don't tell _her_ I said that."

With laughter and thanks all around, Elise made them promise to keep her updated on Lois, and the two kids headed off, Richard watching them go with interest. Elise was surely going to be grounded for disobeying her parents, so this was likely the last quality time Jason would get with her for a long while.

He didn't worry about sending the two teens off alone. While searching for Kala, there simply hadn't been enough time or energy to spend on Jason and Elise. All four of the parents had treated the two teenagers like adults, expecting them to pull their own weight during the search as much as possible and keep out of the way when they couldn't do so. The pair had reacted by behaving as adults, proving themselves worthy of the trust bestowed on them.

"It's going to be a bit difficult for them to remember how to be kids again," Lana remarked quietly as Jason and Elise disappeared into the stream of people in the main hall, her mind running along the same track as Richard's.

"But a relief after all of that, I think," he replied, and squeezed her good hand lightly. He turned to check on the other kid, and saw Kala standing next to Nick, looking up at him. Apparently their reunion had gone well, since she hadn't beaten him up. Sebast was standing a little to one side, his shoulders tense, clearly casting a disapproving eye on the proceedings. Richard decided to put an end to that before the overprotective best friend attacked the big bad college boy. "Come on, let's separate Kala and Nick before Sebast throttles him."

"I want Lo-Lo and Daddy Clark," Kristin said as he moved.

"Lo-Lo had to go to the doctor, sweetheart, and Daddy Clark is busy," Lana soothed her. "But we'll see him tonight, and I'll take you to see her tomorrow, okay?"

Kristin sighed at the inconvenience, getting grins from both parents.

…

Getting settled into Met Gen was actually a lot easier once Lois fainted in the lobby. It hadn't been expected in the least, Lois managing to keep it together until her body just decided it had had enough of her shenanigans and made her light-headed just as they came in the automatic doors to Admitting. She never even knew what hit her after the strong spike of pain in her side. Lois was in a state of utter confusion when she regained consciousness just as an orderly lifted her into a wheelchair; unfortunately from her perspective it felt like a strange man picking her up, and she lashed out with her unaffected elbow to his temple before her eyes were even open. An after-effect of a week with her and her family's lives constantly on the line. Sadly, the young man had no idea of this when he had picked her up. Cat and Tobie, caught between hilarity and horror, had to get her into the chair while Kay and Laurel apologized profusely.

Paperwork was filled out and phone calls were exchanged between Las Vegas Medical Center and Metropolis General, bringing everyone up to speed. Soon enough Lois found herself in another hospital bed, once again glaring at the IV line through which a cocktail of medicines was currently being delivered. Antibiotics, something for the pain, and she suspected a mild sedative by the heaviness of her eyelids. Normally, she'd be crabbing, but even she had to admit that she was down for the count now. Not that she'd ever say it out loud. She was back home, on her own turf, with both threats removed from their power. Rest was an option again. "You're going to stay here until they tell you it's safe to leave, all right?" Laurel was saying, arms crossed defiantly. "You lost a damn _kidney_, it's not like a sprained ankle you can just walk off. Enough already. Or we'll rat on you to Clark."

"And if you leave against orders again, I'll tell the doctors to tie you to the bed and leave Tobie to watch over you. _Just_ Tobie," Cat teased, waggling a blonde eyebrow salaciously. Tobie elbowed her while Lois sneered and Kay looked away to hide her amusement.

Despite the relaxation spreading through her veins, she had a façade to maintain. That and she was starting to wish they would just stop so she could sleep. A nap was definitely in order. "What part of 'I'll be _fine_' do you guys not get?" Lois groused.

"We're counting on it," Tobie told her quietly, the look on her face frank with her worry of the last few days. When everyone looked at her, surprised by the sincerity in her voice, the _Star_ editor switched gears in an instant and explained, "It's your turn to buy lunch this Friday, Lane."

At that, all of them laughed, even Lois. She wasn't sure when the sedative kicked in, but at least this time the laughter that followed her into unconsciousness was loving and well-intentioned.

…

Jason and Elise made it to her parents' apartment without any trouble. He'd been vigilant the entire time, eyeing everyone who came within a dozen yards of them. Elise couldn't help grinning a little; he looked a lot like a dog with its hackles up, bristling with adrenaline. It was sort of sweet, in a way, how protective he was. _Given that he can probably throw a taxi at anyone who tries to mess with us, it should be scary, but this is __**Jason**__. I could never be scared of him._

Once inside the apartment, though, they were at a loss. Jason lingered, not wanting to leave, and Elise didn't want him to go. The close quarters of the time in Nevada made being alone anywhere a little daunting. Not to mention, being back together, only to be separated, wasn't making them in any hurry to part. "Hang out for a second while I call my parents and tell them I'm alive?" she said hopefully, stalling.

"Sure," he told her, and sat down on the couch while she made the call.

It was, as expected, not exactly pleasant. Jason tried not to overhear, but Elise's harried tone was too obvious to ignore. "Yes, I'm inside with the door locked, and I'll stay right here until you get home tomorrow morning. Yes, you can call any time. Yes, I have enough stuff for dinner. I'll be fine, Dad, really. I know I'm already grounded." She paused, and then sighed aggravatedly. "Look, I knew I was going to get grounded when I went to Nevada! I always knew I was going to get caught and punished. The point is, it was _important_. Kala needed me, it turned out even her parents needed my help. So I'm gonna take my punishment and deal with it. That's fine. It was worth it." A few more words, and then she hung up, burying her face in her hands.

"Dad won't forget," Jason said quietly, rubbing her shoulder. "He'll make sure to thank them. A visit from Superman tends to impress."

Elise chuckled weakly. "Yeah, I bet."

"Besides, you're right and everyone else in the family would agree. We did need you. _I_ needed you. And now that you know the truth, we're always going to have your back, just like you have ours. And I don't think anyone would argue that you're a good addition to the team. Thank you for coming with me. I couldn't have done this without you." Jason pulled her in for a hug, and Elise leaned against him, accepting the comfort gratefully.

Neither of them pulled away, just leaning on each other, and after several long moments Jason kissed her cheek. Elise smiled and drew back just enough to kiss him. Slow, careful, and thorough, eyes half-closed so she could catch glimpses of the intensity on his face, and after a few minutes she whispered against his lips, "You don't have to leave right away, you know. I know you have to get back, you _should_ get back, but…"

"I hate the thought of leaving you here alone," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair between kisses.

"We won't be able to see each other for a while." That was the last whispered justification. Jason had just enough time to think that he should've known better in his relationship with Giselle, kissing _her_ had _never_ felt this right, and then coherent thought blissfully drifted away for a while.

…

Clark arrived home fairly exhausted that evening, the events of the day having taken their toll. He had been hoping to relieve some of that tumultuous emotion when he stopped by the hospital to check on Lois, but his wife was so deeply asleep that she didn't even notice when he kissed her forehead. The doctors had probably given her something to help her sleep, so he left a note by her bed simply telling her he loved her. At last he went to the apartment, where he found Richard and Lana waiting for him. Only then did Clark remember that their apartment wasn't exactly habitable at the moment. "We only need a few days, I hope," Lana explained to him. "The police have released the scene, and Maggie recommended a company that specializes in this sort of thing."

It sickened Clark that the need for special crime-scene cleaners existed, but what bit deeper was the way fate had required his closest friends to need those services. "I'm sorry. Both of you. It never should have happened." The guilt returned tenfold after its brief absence. "I should've been there. It never should have come to that point…"

Lana fixed him with her most stern look, green eyes narrowed at him. "Stop it, Clark. You do the best you can; you always have. Not even you can be everywhere."

"None of you would be involved in this if I'd taken my father's advice." His voice was low, not expecting her to understand the reference. Jor-El had always warned him not to mingle with humans, that he would only be a danger to them…

Lana smacked him lightly on the cheek, glaring. "Don't be an idiot, Clark. Yes, Lois told me how Jor-El wanted you to live, apart from all of humanity. That's ridiculous. I've known you since long before you found out where you came from, and you've always been one of us in all the ways that matter. It was never a choice you had to make. And it doesn't matter, anyway, because none of us have any regrets."

Richard said from behind him, having checked on the girls, who were both napping, "She's right, as usual. Clark, when I met you, it looked like you were taking away the best parts of my life. If anyone had cause to regret having you around, it's me. But because of you, I've got three kids, my crazy ex-fiancée is still part of my life, and I have Lana, too. I never would've met my soul mate if not for you – she only came to Metropolis to look _you_ up."

"And instead I found _my_ husband while he was engaged to my competition." Lana smiled with fond remembrance; those tense days were much more amusing in retrospect. Who would have known, at that time, just how different things would be in the distant future?

"All of this?" Richard waved his hand to encompass the traumatized twins, Lana's injuries, Lois' absence. "This is _Luthor's_ fault, not yours. Quit taking the blame for things that aren't your fault."

While Clark hesitated, wondering if he could truly lay aside the guilt that festered in him for so long, Lana said softly, "Lois would throw something at you if she were here – if you didn't hurt her too much with what you're implying. Can you really believe that everything you have – your wife, your children, your friends – isn't worth the sacrifices we've made and the hardships we've suffered?"

"It's worth it to _me_," he protested. Never again was he going to doubt Lois. She might keep a few secrets, and she might be utterly ruthless in defense of the family, but she would never betray him, and he could never bear to lose her.

Richard chimed in then. "And it's worth it to us, too. I know it's worth it to Lois. She wouldn't trade the life she has with you for _anything_. Not even a wall plated in Pulitzers. We've _all_ gained more than we could ever lose, and besides, super-guilt is not one of your cooler powers."

Clark sighed heavily, turning it into a reluctant chuckle. For most of his adult life, he'd been shadowed by the nagging worry that his existence would cause suffering for those he loved. People like Luthor would always target his family; since Clark himself was invulnerable, the surest way to hurt him was to strike at those closest to him. But maybe it was time to finally lay the last remnants of that fear to rest. "You're right," he said at last.

"I usually am," Lana replied, with a slow grin.

"Don't let her gloat," Richard warned, and immediately changed the topic. "So how are we working the sleeping arrangements? All three kids are currently huddled up in Jason's room with both dogs, the weasel and the lizard."

"You two can have the master bedroom," Clark said. "Lois won't be home for a few days at least, and I can sleep on the couch in her study."

"You're sure?" the redhead asked.

He nodded then, his smile sunny and sure this time. "Definitely. Lana, after all of this, don't you know that you're family? That you don't even need to ask? Didn't you make a point of reminding me just what we all mean to each other?" He gave her a reproachful look, Lana smiling now. "Exactly. Now stop questioning me, for Pete's sake. That sofa's comfortable enough and I think we've all slept on it a time or two. You know Lois wouldn't have let us buy it if it wasn't. Speaking of which, I'm about beat."

Richard reached up and jostled his shoulder. "See if you can manage to stay awake at least until dinner. We ordered pizza. With Lois eating protein-rich health food, I figured that deep-dish pan was in order. Good way to welcome home the hero."

Most of the time when the family gathered, Lois' order of thin crust ruled the day. And Richard and Clark suffered in silence most of the time. Pan pizza was a rare treat, usually restricted to a boy's night out or when Lois lost a bet of some sort. That both twins preferred thin crust didn't help, either. Clark couldn't resist the conspiratorial grin he shared with Richard, especially when Lana smirked and shook her head at them both.

…

Mercy had lain as still as she could throughout that long cold night, but she couldn't keep from shivering. The first time had startled the snake, and its rattle buzzed, the sound of certain death in those tight quarters. After that Luthor had cautiously slid closer to her, sharing the warmth of his body. Mercy knew it was no romantic impulse; if she upset the snake enough, it could bite both of them.

The snake seemed less perturbed after that, as if it was willing to put up with a little movement in return for sharing their body heat. Mercy knew that snakes almost never attacked unprovoked, and rattlesnakes in particular had evolved their warning system to prevent themselves from wasting precious venom in self-defense. So once the reptile had remained somnolent through a couple of rounds of mild shivering, Mercy let herself fall asleep.

She woke in the morning when the snake crawled over her arm to exit the cave. "We have to be out before tonight," Luthor whispered in her ear. "I'm not exactly enthused about having such a guest again."

"We're probably the guests," Mercy whispered back with a tiny smile. "If it was any colder outside, this place would probably be full of rattlesnakes. They hibernate in large groups."

"Definitely out before tonight," Luthor replied. It was a long way to Australia with every hero in the country hunting them, but at least they hadn't heard any search parties yet that morning. Perhaps there was still a chance they could make their escape cleanly. If they could only get outside the search perimeter, Las Vegas wasn't far away. A perfect place to disappear.

…

The next morning, everyone woke early before realizing they had no urgent task to complete. The habit of nearly a week would be difficult to break, but in time that hyper-alert state would fade back into normalcy.

For now, though, since they were all up, they had breakfast together. The discussion around the table naturally fell toward planning the day. Richard had no intention of going back to work just yet; Lana needed to make an appointment with a specialist about her hand; Clark wanted to see Lois before heading back out to Nevada. The twins, however, had more pressing concerns.

"Um, Dad?" His hesitant tone got the adults' attention. "I wanted to go out today – there are some things I need to research, you know, about up north." Clark nodded, understanding that he wanted to speak to Jor-El and couldn't say so in front of Kristin, who was happily munching on a bowl of Daddy Clark's Apple Jacks. "But I was wondering … am I grounded? For sneaking out?"

Kala cut in before the adults could speak, staring at him and then their parents in disbelief. "Jase, stop being so modest. You saved my life. _I'm_ grounded 'til summer break, probably, but you're the hero."

"About that," Clark said, and sighed, looking to Richard and Lana. "We still need to have a family conference about New Year's Eve, but it's more complicated now. And we're going to have to make a decision without your mother."

Kala looked resigned about the whole thing, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, come on. What's to decide? Daddy, I broke curfew and ran away. I'm restricted. I deserve it."

"Sweetheart, you almost died. I think that's punishment enough to teach you the error of your ways." Clark's voice still held the horror of nearly losing his daughter.

Lana cut in, her voice casual between sips of coffee. "Two weeks restriction was what we all agreed on for breaking curfew. The running away was intentionally provoked by Luthor's associates, and we honestly never planned for it, so we'll leave that be for now. I suggest the same for Jason, since he put himself and Elise in some danger by sneaking onto the plane. The results don't change the fact that both of them disobeyed clear instructions."

Clark saw the wisdom in that, and acquiesced. "The rules are the rules. Nevada should count as time served, though."

They could all agree on that, though Kala cleared her throat cautiously. "Um, I'll take that as more lenient than I deserve, but I do have one request. Can I go see Mom today? I need to talk to her."

"I'll bring you with me," Clark told her with a smile. "After I drop Jason off for his research. Do either of you mind being left alone while I take care of things out west?"

Jason shook his head. "No, sir. Could you just get me back in time for lunch?"

"Of course. Kala?"

"Thank you, Daddy. I'll be okay. I'll just get something at the hospital cafeteria, or Daddy Richard can come get me."

That settled things, and they finished breakfast on a lighter note.

…

Elise had only been half-listening to her parents' lecture, most of which focused on the trouble they knew that Kent boy would drag her into. _He's Superman's son. He saved my life and I probably saved his. Everything you think about him and his family is skewed. Yeah, he's weird, but he's __**half alien**__. Jason can't help who he is._

_Oh yeah, and I'm in love with him. This is not gonna be fun._ The memory of yesterday still blazed freshly in her mind, forcing her to admit how much Jason meant to her. No other boy had gotten under her shirt, much less gotten it off her, and _she_ had been the one to go there. Elise had to bite her lip at the memory of Jason's expression when she peeled the shirt off; he looked like he'd just won the lottery, stunned and unable to believe his good fortune. But his hands had been so warm on her bare skin, and he hadn't pushed for more the way she half expected him to.

"Are you even listening, young lady?" her father snapped.

"Yes, sir." Elise plastered a rueful look on her face and let them both rant, knowing it was more about how worried they'd been when they couldn't reach her than them actually being upset.

Her mother noticed first, her eyes going wide as she looked beyond Elise. The girl turned to look out the sliding glass door, and saw _him_. Even though she now knew that was Mr. Kent, it was still a shock to see Superman hovering just off their balcony.

Mr. Thorne slowly walked over and opened the door, still staring in surprise. Superman nodded politely to him, and spoke just twenty-five words. "Mr. Thorne, Mrs. Thorne. I just wanted to convey my gratitude toward your daughter Elise. Her assistance was invaluable during the search for my god-daughter." And then with a respectful wave, he was gone.

As her parents slowly turned around to stare at her, Elise could only smile and shrug. _Well, this is going to make life a little less ordinary._ It was all she had not to laugh aloud.

…

Dropped off at the Fortress alone, Jason took a deep breath before approaching the crystal console. He removed the father crystal and placed it into the central slot, and Jor-El's image appeared on the large flat crystal across from him. Those piercing blue eyes locked on his as the AI greeted him. No one had had time to visit the Fortress since their last consultation regarding Zod, so Jason spent the next few minutes updating his grandfather. He finished with the news of Zod's death.

Jor-El's image flickered, his expression grave – and wounded. "Dru-Zod was a brilliant and noble man. Unfortunately he was also irredeemable. He chose his path, and he alone bears responsibility for its ending. Still, I am sorry to hear of his death."

Jason took a deep breath before he spoke next, the words painful to think, much less say aloud. "Grandfather, you were right. Kala had allied herself with General Zod. Yet at the crucial moment, she recovered her senses, repudiated him, and killed him. She believed at the time that she was sacrificing her own life to save myself and Father."

Jor-El nodded as if he had expected that. "Then she has seen at last the truth of the legacy. It is not a glorious dream, it is a solemn duty, and at times a bitter one. _Now_ she is ready, as she was not before. The honor of the House of El prevailed."

Shaking his head, Jason chuckled. "No, Grandfather. It was the courage of the House of Lane that won out in the end. It was our mother's name and example she drew upon in that moment."

"Lois Lane is an exceedingly brave and uncompromising individual," Jor-El replied, and Jason wasn't imagining the hint of admiration in those words.

It dawned on Jason then, one of his long-held assumptions turning on its head. Maybe they had been wrong in imagining his motives all along. Stunned, he thought back over what he had seen in Luthor's facility. It fit. And it truly was not impossible, knowing his grandfather's views on the mission. "You do not hate our mother," he said slowly, eyes wide as he spoke aloud his guess. "You are not a misogynist or a racist. You never were. Your disapproval of her is rooted in something else, something she will do and cannot control, not something she has done or something she is."

Jor-El's image closed its eyes for a long moment. "So you have discovered the truth, son of my son?"

"I began to suspect when I saw Dru-Zod," Jason admitted, watching the AI's every movement. "He has barely aged in sixteen years – his hair is still black, with only a little gray at the temples. I understand that he did not age in the Phantom Zone, for time halts there. But here, on this planet, I had expected to meet a noticeably older man."

He had never seen Jor-El look this sorrowful. "Yes. I am sorry, Jon-El, but you are correct. Not only does the yellow sun grant our people phenomenal powers, it also slows the aging process. By how much, I do not know and cannot calculate."

"You dislike my mother because you know she will die before Father, and in so doing, break his heart." Acid crept up Jason's throat as he spoke. He had never wanted to think about Mom dying; he'd had to confront it far too closely when she was shot. No child ever wants to think about that far-off misty time when a parent just ceased to move about in their world. "You were doing it to protect him, but you would not tell him why, for fear you would completely alienate him."

"Correct. Now you know why I advised him to distance himself from all humanity."

Jason had to give a sad smile at that. How could Jor-El ever think that his son could be any less passionate than himself? Expect him to be an untouchable symbol of hope to these people he had been taught to lead? The thought was laughable when he thought of his father. "That is impossible to accomplish when you live amongst them every day, Grandfather. Caring enough for them to be their savior if your heart is not touched by them is not within him. It is what makes Father the hero he is, this lack of distance. The people he saves know that he truly cares about their fate quite personally. He has become one of Earth's greatest for that reason alone."

He saw Jor-El begin to form a response and so rushed on. "As to my mother, Father loves our mother as you loved Lara. She is his example for the heart of humanity, their flaws and their goodness. All along, she has helped him understand and further his mission in ways he had never considered. She has been a partner to him in all circumstances. And, I ask you, is it not better to have had that love, even though it must one day end? Millions of people on this planet become widowed – not all are fortunate as you are, to die in the same moment as their beloved."

"You do not yet fully see, my grandson. Kal-El is doomed to lose everyone whom he loves. Perhaps even you, his children, will predecease him. I cannot calculate the span of his life, and even less so could I guess at yours who are half-Kryptonian. It is a terrible fate, and not one I meant for him to suffer. It is yet possible that he will again be the Last Son of Krypton."

Those words chilled Jason to the core. That very thought had been in the back of his mind since he had seen General Zod, but he had been refusing to think about that part. His father, one day without them. It didn't seem possible, just the same as truly losing Mom. He was too young to have been thinking that far in the future. This was part of the legacy he was being entrusted with. But this promise was one that he would happily make. He raised his head, and looked Jor-El squarely in the eyes. "Then I will see to it that such a thing never happens. I will ensure that the legacy does not end with myself and Kala. There will be Heirs to the House of El for generations to come, and even if Father should lose us, he will still have family. He will never be alone again."

…

Lois had only been awake for an hour when Clark and Kala arrived. Clark brought her a cluster of flowers, delicate pale lavender blooms in a tiny pot. "It's called Purple Saxifrage, Lois. It grows in the most inhospitable parts of the tundra, farther north than any other plant. The soil is only inches deep, the ground is covered in snow or ice most of the year, and the growing season is only a few months long. The name means 'rock-breaker', because it's often found growing in cracks in the rocks. Over time, it can actually split boulders through bio-erosion."

"Sounds like someone read up on it. Pretty impressive," Lois said teasingly, using her good hand to turn the pot around on the bedside table. "It's lovely, Clark."

"It reminded me of you. Beautiful, fragile-looking, thriving in adversity, and completely indomitable." She smiled at him for that, and Clark leaned in to kiss her, whispering, "I love you. I always have, and always will."

"Hopeless romantic," Lois whispered back, her eyes gleaming.

"Only for you."

"Right back at you, hero. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes. God help me." The warmth in her voice when she said it make him lean in to kiss her again. After the last two weeks, he would never take an instant with her for granted.

Kala's quiet laughter was a surprise to them both, and they turned to see her grinning at them. "You're giving me cavities, really awful ones, but don't stop. _Please_. Don't ever stop. I'll never mock it again."

"I have it on good authority that we won't," Clark said with a glance at Lois, who just snickered. After stealing another kiss or two he had to head out for Nevada. Which left Lois alone with her daughter.

"Can I get you anything, Mom?" Kala asked, giving Lois' hand a squeeze when she sat down on the side of the bed. "How's your … you know?"

"I'll live, Munchkin. They're still keeping me pretty drugged, but the doctors say we're getting there. Question is, will I go nuts in the bed before the damn things heal." Lois shrugged then. "Nothing to do but wait and see. And eat bad hospital food. But what about you? Jason tells me that the nightmares are back. He's scared for you, Kala. So am I."

Kala sighed, dragging the chair close. She should have known that Jase would at least tell Mom what was happening. "Yeah. That. I do need to talk to you. About Nevada, and what happened there. I need your help."

Lois hated that her daughter had been through all of that, but a part of her was elated to find Kala asking for her help again. It had been too long since the two of them had turned to each other, something both were now determined to rectify. "So talk."

First Kala shoved her hair back, and shifted in the chair to get comfortable. "Okay, so it's unanimous that I'm going back to Dr. Marrin, because obviously I'm not going to just walk away from all this with no scars whatsoever. But I can't tell him the whole truth. We've got to work out a story that deals with everything but doesn't blow the secret."

This was the perfect opportunity for Lois to get the full story from her daughter. Kala hadn't told anyone precisely what had happened to her, had just hinted at bits and pieces, but Lois was the best person to talk to about this. Especially if Lois' worst fears were true. Still, she kept her voice calm. "Exactly. So tell me the whole truth, and we'll figure out how much we can tell Eliot."

The topic made Kala uncomfortable, for obvious reasons, so she starting ticking off the list in an exaggeratedly casual tone. "Let me see, I was kidnapped and drugged, I got pawed by Luthor's goons, I was locked up in an underground lab with a bunch people who either wanted to dissect me or rape me, I almost turned evil under Dru-Zod's influence, and then I turned around and killed the only person there who'd been kind to me, the only one I trusted. Did I mention he finally told me why he did that, why he protected me and everything?" Her too-bright tone concealed a lot of pain, so Lois only shook her head. "I'm the last female Kryptonian, Mom. He wanted to take over the planet, still, but this time he was going to have me around as human-Kryptonian liaison. Oh yeah, and his queen. Empress, I guess. Kala Dru-Zod, Empress of Earth. Kinda catchy, don't you think?"

Lois was trying not to choke on that. She should have suspected it was that bad, but hearing it aloud made it a whole new ballgame. The desire to kill Zod, to tear him into tiny pieces with her bare hands, was overwhelming, but Kala had already taken care of that. All she said was, "Mm-hmm, we're going to have to edit that." If Kala wanted to be blasé, then Lois would too. It was a perfectly valid coping mechanism, one Lois had employed many times. There would be time to heal a little later.

Kala seemed to brighten up then, taking courage from her mother's lack of histrionics. "Oh, and before that Luthor made me think you and Lana were both dead – actually first he tried to make me think you'd given me to him, traded me for Jase, but I figured out there was no way in hell you'd ever do that." She laughed then, almost the snicker Lois was used to hearing. "You know, at one point, I was actually on the verge of tears wishing for a proper Hurricane Lane dressing-down? I remember thinking I'd let you rage on as long as you wanted and give you a standing ovation at the end. I missed you so bad it hurt."

Lois took a ragged breath, running the back of her hand lightly down her daughter's cheek. That had hurt her like nothing else could. "I missed you too, baby. God, Kala, I missed you so much. I'm so sorry, for everything. I should never have slapped you. There was just so much going on then and I wasn't… "

Kala grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Quit it, Mom. I was being a total teenage drama queen. That's what you're supposed to do with hysterical people, right? Smack them out of it? Besides, it didn't really hurt me."

"Sure looked like it did." Lois' voice was barely a whisper, still seeing the wounded look on Kala's face. Like she was six all over again and her world had shattered.

Sighing, Kala looked away, then forced herself to meet her mother's gaze. "Yeah, okay, it did. Other than the occasional smack on the butt for being obnoxious, you've never hit me. It hurt. But I've never flown off the handle quite like that before. I was scared all to hell at the time – and it took me long enough, but I finally figured out you were scared out of your mind, too. We were both _terrified_, and we both did what we always do: we got angry. People are right, you know. We're too much alike in some ways."

Lois sighed heavily, pulling her daughter to her for a hug. Neither spoke for a moment then, thinking about all that had passed the last little while. Kala's head was on her mother's shoulder when Lois spoke up again. "Kala, listen. While you were gone … before we really knew it was a kidnapping… I read your diary, Kala. I'm sorry. I was trying to find any clue to where you'd gone. And I read the part about being afraid of being just…"

_Oh shit. She saw it._ Kala had never expect that to ever get back to her mom. Slowly, she sat up, but she couldn't look at Mom. This was humiliating. "Lois Lane Lite?" Kala said, her face mask-like, her back ramrod straight.

"Yes. Sweetheart, you have to understand…" Lois trailed off, for once in her life groping for the words to explain what needed to be said. "Kala, if anything you're going to be _more_ than I am, not less."

Eyes that exactly matched hers for color and pained expression stared into Lois' own for a long moment then. "I find that hard to believe. Then again, I find it hard to believe anyone could ever surpass you, Mom."

"You amaze me, Kala. On a regular basis. You do have so much of me in you, but you don't have the same faults. And you have a lot of your father in you, too, you know that? You've just always had the worst time seeing it. It's there, Kala, you _are_ his daughter more than you even know. You can do so much, be so much…"

Kala's lips curved up in a smile that was so very Clark. It broke Lois' heart sweetly to see it. _Some day she'll realize it. It'll just take time_. "So I guess that makes me Lois Lane 2.0 – now with 10% more height?"

Lois laughed and kissed her. Just like her daughter to make a crack like that. Then again, one good nudge deserved another. "Exactly. Comes with three wardrobes, too: dark, darker, and GAF."

"GAF?" Kala blinked, trying to look innocent. _Did she just… Oh my God, Mom!_

Lois just arched an eyebrow at her. "Oh, please. We both know you what it stands for."

"Wait, did you just call me…?" _She did!_ The realization made Kala throw back her head and laugh freely as she hadn't done for months, and Lois joined in with her. The two of them felt burdens lifting from their shoulders in that shared hilarity. It wasn't perfect, their relationship wasn't going to be fixed with one conversation and a profane acronym, but it was a step in the right direction, and that was all they needed. Love and time (not to mention counseling) could do the rest.

* * *

_Let it go._  
_Let it roll right off your shoulder._  
_Don't you know?_  
_The hardest part is over._  
_Let it in._  
_Let your clarity define you in the end,_  
_We will only just remember how it feels._

_All lives are made in these small hours,_  
_These little wonders,_  
_These twists and turns of fate._  
_Time folds away,_  
_But these small hours_  
_These small hours_  
_Still remain._

_Let it slide._  
_Let your troubles fall behind you,_  
_Let it shine_  
_'Till you feel it all around you._  
_And I don't mind_  
_If it's me you need to turn to_  
_We'll get by._  
_It's the heart that really matters in the end._

_All of my regret_  
_Will wash away somehow,_  
_But I cannot forget_  
_The way I feel right now._

_In these small hours,_  
_These little wonders,_  
_These twists and turns of fate._  
_Yeah, these twists and turns of fate…_

_Time falls away,_  
_Yeah, but these small hours_  
_These small hours_  
_Still remain._  
_Yeah, ah, ah_  
_Oh, they still remain,_  
_These little wonders,_  
_Oh, these twists and turns of fate,_  
_Time falls away_  
_But these small hours…_

_**These Little Wonders…**_

_**Still remain...**_

~ Rob Thomas, _Little Wonders_

_

* * *

_

**GAF definition: **

**Subject: Goth as Fuck**  
**Category: Terminology/Sayings**

A high compliment of one's gothic character. It is used to praise someone or something in terms of being gothic. Often this saying is abbreviated "GAF" when used in e-mails and on newsgroups.

The detailed origins of this phrase are unknown to the author, although is seems to be derived from similar statements of that nature such as _"Punk as F***"_

Glad you asked? XD_  
_


	58. Epilogue: We're Marching On

**This is it, folks. The final chapter of Heirs. It's been a long crazy ride and we're grateful to everyone that has come along on the ride with us. We know this fic wasn't the happiest we're ever written, nor the funniest, but we hope it was the most realistic and that it was a worthy successor to Little Secrets. We want to personally thank each and every one of you for all of the reviews, good and bad, and all the support this fic has gotten. I've said it before and I'll say it again. We do this for you and we'd have it no other way. It's because of all of you that we continue to grow as writers. Take care, all, and keep your eyes peeled for the upcoming _LS_-verse oneshots, the _Across the Universe_ oneshot series, and the _Heirs: Sessions_ short series coming in a few weeks. And we'll see you all back in this universe in the summer of 2011 for the next epic in this series, _Blood Will Tell_.**

**Now, get reading and we'll see you over at the LJ for the after-party! Check my profile for the link.  
**

* * *

_**For those days we felt like a mistake,  
Those times when love's what you hate,  
Somehow,  
We keep marching on.**_

_**For those nights when I couldn't be there,  
I've made it harder to know that you know,  
That somehow,  
We'll keep moving on…**_

**Kal-El**

The last month has been a roller coaster, with everything that happened in Nevada. On the up side, I rescued my daughter, saved my marriage, and discovered that Superman can actually take a break without the world ending. On the down side, everyone I love was in danger, and in the aftermath we're all in therapy.

I'm surprised to realize I rather like Dr. Elliot Marrin. He may be Lois' ex, and their relationship may have been a train wreck from my perspective, but he knows her, and he still cares about her. Of course we can't tell him the whole truth about our family, which I worried might be a problem. It seems not to affect the situation, though, and I know he's been a great deal of help to Kala.

He's been a lot of help to me, too. Technically he's a child psychologist, but his expertise extends to families, which is why all of us have been seeing him. He offered to refer me and Lois to a marriage counselor, but as he told me, "What you really need to do is spend 15 minutes twice a day showing her that she's wanted, needed, and loved. Words are important to her as a journalist, but actions are even more compelling. And don't make it a routine – do something different, at different times of the day. This isn't a chore; it should be fun for both of you. Just make sure you carve out that time each day for the two of you."

Very common-sense advice that I should've already figured out, but sometimes even I need someone to point things like that out to me. _I_ know I love Lois – always have, always will – but she can't read my mind, and I shouldn't expect that of her.

If Dr. Marrin wasn't enough, we also have Richard and Lana keeping an eye on us. Lana can break up any incipient argument by crossing her arms and glaring at us like a couple of misbehaving children, and Richard always has an appropriate (or wildly inappropriate) joke for every situation.

It was Lana who reminded me to count my blessings every day, and the more I look for, the more I find. Even the small blessings, like the new puppy deciding to chew an old towel instead of my new shoes, remind me that life is good. I actually think I'm happier now, after all the trauma of New Year's, than I was at any other time, except when Lois and I got married. Our wedding still tops my list of red-letter days.

Not that things have been perfect. You can't have two strong-willed women in the house without a certain amount of arguing, but at least Lois and Kala both remember how much they love each other. Kala told her mother about how everything ended in Nevada, and now whenever they do quarrel they usually end it with a reminder of that. Lois tells her, "You are of the house of _Lane_!" Or Kala sighs, "And I gave up Empress of Earth for this?" I couldn't make those kinds of jokes, but their sense of humor is as dark as Kala's wardrobe. It works for them, that's the important part.

We may not be all the way back to the way things were, but we're heading in the right direction. And we're doing it together. I hadn't realized how much I missed that sense of shared goals and family cohesion until we got it back.

I will never take this for granted again. And it seems like everyone is just as determined as I am. Even the League has stepped up, making a point of formally naming Lois our media liaison and introducing her to all the members she hasn't yet met. It's done her a lot of good to see the way most of them react to her – she's a legend to all the young heroes, not to mention part of an epic love story.

Ours _is_ a love story, ultimately. Sometimes I wonder how we all managed to survive Luthor yet again, and while I know that planning and powers and luck had a lot to do with it, I think our greatest asset is love. Luthor doesn't understand love; it's the one thing he can't account for or plan to exploit. He couldn't understand why making it seem like Kala had become the enemy would only make us more determined to save her. He could never comprehend why Lana and Richard would fight to join us in the search after what he did to them.

And he could never imagine that Lois and I would find our way to forgiveness and an even stronger marriage after the way he told me about the secret he forced her to keep. She bears the scars of that secret, not exactly identical to my own, but close enough to send a shiver down my spine when I look at them. I failed her badly long ago, and one of the consequences of having taken her memories and left the planet was confronting Luthor again. Slashed in the side with a kryptonite shiv, shot in the chest with a kryptonite-pointed bullet, I paid for my sins in blood. And now so has Lois. I'd already forgiven her when Luthor shot her, but the scars on her shoulder and belly are a reminder that the two of us bear all burdens together, never alone. We'll never give up on each other. Love is our strength, and his weakness.

Knowing that, I'm a little more comfortable with the knowledge that Luthor still hasn't been found. We have to assume he escaped to whatever backup he had planned, and that he's still out there plotting our destruction. The last time we tangled with him, I was constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to strike again. This time, I'm still worried, but not afraid like I was then. Now I know that whatever he tries to throw at us, we'll counter it. He won't win.

Not with all of us on watch. Jason's stepping up his training, and so is Kala. Lois used to want to hold them back, afraid they'd be tossed in way over their heads, but it's rapidly becoming clear that they can hold their own. They _need _training, because they're certainly not going to sit back and watch when their skills and powers are needed. They get that drive from both of us, and there's no denying it. Besides, Kala _has_ to work on her flight, or she'll wind up using it unexpectedly.

This summer I'm going to send Jason to spend a few weeks with Bruce and his boys. A change of pace and perspective will be useful, and there's no one outside the immediate family I trust more than Bruce. It'll be a lot easier for him, too. I catch myself wanting to protect Jason when I should be letting him do things himself. I know he's nearly a grown man, but it's hard to stop thinking of him as my little boy.

If it's difficult with Jason, it's heartbreaking with Kala. She went up to the Fortress to have a private conversation with Jor-El, with the end result that she's finally in training. She's working hard, but there's no way she can make up for several years in just a few months, so she won't be going to Gotham. Kala says she's okay with it, and teases that Jason's old enough to be trusted on his own, but I know the two of them will miss each other.

Still, we always knew they'd have to separate eventually. Life does that to even the closest siblings as they grow up. Their lives' paths are taking them in slightly different directions. He wants to follow in my footsteps: to be a hero, to have a family, to have the kind of career that allows for both. Whether or not Kala will actually end up in a costume rescuing people remains to be seen. As of right now she intends to become famous and then use her popularity for the greater good. She wants to be a rock star, and that's looking less like a pipe dream every day.

I've always known she could sing. No one gets into Stalmaster without an audition, and even so, there's a wait list each year of students who didn't quite make the cut. For Kala to be in their vocal program means she's talented far beyond my fatherly faith in her abilities. Nick – who is _not_ allowed to date my daughter until she turns 18, but who can be her friend unless and until he proves himself unworthy of the name – told us that several bands were looking for her after New Year's Eve. I didn't really believe him at the time, or more correctly, I didn't care. I had more important things on my mind, like finding her.

Somehow, even knowing that, I never expected to find myself in a teen club, or whatever Fuel bills itself as, waiting for my daughter to step onstage. I never expected to have to stand up in the back because there's absolutely no seating here; the band that's asked her to sing with them is popular enough to crowd the place to the Fire Marshal's occupancy limit. And I never expected my chest to be this tight at the thought that Kala really could succeed at what all of us thought was a wild dream.

Then again, she's the daughter of Lois Lane and Superman. There's no telling what heights she can soar to. I'd say the same of Jason, but he has his feet firmly on the ground, even if he _is_ going to be onstage beside Kala for this one performance.

_**There's so many wars we fought,  
There's so many things we're not,  
But with what we have,  
I promise you that,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on).**_

_**For all of the plans we've made,  
There isn't a flag I'd **__**wave**__**,  
Don't care if we bend,  
I'd sink us to **__**swim**__**,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on).**_

**Lois**

For those of you that have any ideas that getting shot and living through it is cool, I don't recommend it. I don't know if I'll ever think a whole day in bed is a luxury ever again. Enforced rest? For the frickin' birds. I've been home free for the last two and a half weeks and I'm not really sure who's more relieved: me or the staff. Investigative reporters dying a slow death from being cooped up and bored to death is not healthy for anyone.

To be serious, the last month and a half have probably been the hardest of my life. And not just because of me playing the invalid. If I was entirely honest, and most people would argue that that's impossible for a reporter, it's not just been because of the food, the medications, starting physical therapy. It's not any of it. It's having time to sit and think. I never thought of it before, but there's a reason I stay so damn busy.

If you keep moving, the Devil can't get you.

And this time, he very nearly did. This time he very nearly got all of us.

To say my mind can be a bad neighborhood no one should visit alone can occasionally be an understatement. The potential for long hours of self-reflection is a pretty terrifying prospect. There's a lot of things I'm still trying to work out that happened out there in the desert. There's also the added thrill of knowing that I now have to share all this with Kinky Briefcase. There is no adequate way to describe just how much he gets under my skin and how much I loathe him dragging every skeleton out of the closet, but it's in the kids' best interests and that's always come first. To get us back to where we need to be, I'd do every cliché in the book. I made the mistake of thinking that I could run from my problems, forget that they exist. That's not an option anymore, as Elliot seems so pleased to remind me. Doing this with him is a perfect reminder of things I have yet to deal with. That said, sometimes I forget that he can lob the dynamite right back at me. I just keep holding my breath and telling myself that I'm taking another one for the team.

Next to that, physical therapy's a breeze. Luthor shot cleanly, if nothing else. The wound in my shoulder is a bigger pain in the ass than the one in my side. Mobility is limited in my right arm because of it, the damage and the stiffness only making it possible to raise it to my shoulder. Which also makes prolonged pressure in my hand an issue. And that's a big problem when you're the assistant editor of Metropolis' best paper.

The Old Man decreed after my first day in physical therapy that I was on light-duty for the next six weeks. _After_ I finished my first six weeks of sessions and he gets an update on my condition. He told Clark that 'light-duty' means I have to sit in meetings as we make adjustments to the Board of Directors and all of that upper management BS. Samantha, the therapy harpy, was expecting me to cry and whine over the amount of exercises. Ha! We're a week in and she's constantly complaining that she has to slow me down; it's almost always the other way around with other patients. Shows what you know, Gym Fun Barbie. Lois Lane isn't going to be held back by something as insignificant as personal injury. The sooner I'm back in working order, the faster Mad Dog Lane can make a grand return appearance to her Pit of Vipers. God, I'm even missing Bill's stale jokes at this point. See? That's a bad sign.

An even worse, far more pathetic sign? I talked Dr. Martens into daily three-hour appointments, if I'm up to it. The _if_ was _**his**_addition. But that only fills up so many hours in the day. Perry will just barely allow me to stop into the City room once a week and even then, only long enough to get an update on what's been happening in the aftermath of all of this mess. I know what he's doing. Not only does he want me to rest up and get better, but he knows that I'll just come back stronger for being denied. Nope, I hadn't missed that. He's going to be furious when he realizes that I'm figuring him out.

But the worst part of being stuck at home all day is the waiting. You can only have so many lunches with the girls, daytime TV is a joke, I've discovered that it is possible to OD on CNN and MSNBC, and I pretty much read everything in the house the first week I was home. That is, what I didn't read while I was trapped in the hospital bed. Clark's at work most of the day, the kids are back at school, so I actually find myself listening for the front door to open like the stereotypical Little Woman. Like I said, forced idleness usually means I'm into something in a space of hours. Not this time. Especially since I promised my husband I would behave myself.

The only good thing about this arrangement is that the four of us get quality time a lot more often. I never realized how much we took our time for granted until the first time I saw the twins coming through the door after school after I got out of the hospital. I know now that Kal-El didn't tell them that I was coming home that morning, since he had taken the day off and signed me out around noon. I haven't seen them that excited in the longest time. Kala parked herself on my right side with her head on my shoulder and just leaned there for a while. Jason didn't hover as much, just hugging me as tightly as he dared and kissing my cheek, but I knew he was watching. It was just that Kala needed me more, needed the reassurance that I was really there. And so did I. Old habits die hard when something like this happens to us. There's that intense need to protect what's yours. I think that's where we are at the moment; we need to reassure ourselves that it's over and that none of us are going to disappear in broad daylight.

Things in the spousal support portion of our lives, Kal-El and I are making pretty good headway to getting things back to normal. The fighting has pretty much screeched to a halt, both of us trying to feel our way back. We know where we started to get off-course and neither of us has any intention of letting it get that bad again. We've made a point of having lunch together again, with him surprising me with something new every day even if he's out on the street around noon. He never tells me where it's from or what it is before he's got it plated. He used to do that sort of thing back in the day and, as little as he or I talked about it, it was always a highlight to have him choose for me. Actually, some of my favorite dishes now were ones he snuck in to me while I was mid-harangue on the phone with a source. It's been a blessing to get this time alone. As long as we find ways to reconnect, there's no doubt in my mind that we'll be okay. Even if constantly tearing each other's clothes off isn't an option. Which it needs to be. Soon. But it's not like there aren't ways around that little rule…

Oh, wait. Speaking of ways to reconnect, I forgot my Furry Little Shadow for a minute there. No, I'm not talking about Bagel. The poor Brat is sleeping with Kala lately, the tension in the house trickling down to the dog now that the humans have it in gear. I was telling Kal-El the other day that we need to get her a name tag shaped like a purple heart for going after Lex's little spy the way she did. No, I'm actually talking about the new pup, Chewie. Her actual name is Katchoo, because she was no bigger than a sneeze when Martha first brought her to Metropolis on her and Ben's last visit. The nickname came once she took a liking to a pair of Kala's boots. She was a sickly little thing, a total of six pounds and just a little bigger than the palm of my hand, four weeks old and the runt of the litter. The mother had pushed her aside, too many puppies in the litter and not enough food was the guess.

The vet told them that she needed constant care to prevent her from being any more undernourished than she already was, and as much warmth as possible, especially with how frigid the Midwest has been so far this year. The carrier Martha had her in was even heated. Chewie had been so little when I first saw her, shivering in my hands while she slept, but she didn't cry the whole time I held her.

But she definitely did when I handed her over to Ben so I could keep my daily date with Samantha the Rehab Queen. The pup was struggling then when I turned to go, her eyes on me when I turned around. And that was it. As usual, I found myself caving. All of them think I don't know that she was brought here to distract me and give me something other than myself to fret over. I know what they're doing. But I'm old enough to admit I don't care. That puppy has a fighter's spirit and she makes therapy easier by keeping Sam enthralled and making sure she doesn't notice when I sneak in an extra rep or two. We make a good team. Both of us are getting stronger every day, just like the rest of the family.

It would be too easy to say that I never expected us to come to this, but we all know it would be a lie. Life is never an even path nor would we want it to be; what would we learn from that? In getting lost, our family managed to find each other again and I'll never take a moment of my time with them for granted again. Especially not when tonight is Kala's debut. It's not Royal Albert Hall or Madison Square Garden, but that doesn't matter to her. For her, this is the big time. And it is one hell of an accomplishment. Sebast has been wheedled into joining her and Jason is going to be accompanying their performance. All of this added to Clark, Lana, Richard, and I being here. I know she's excited and I'm excited for her. As time marches on, who knows what life has in store for us? All I know is that we'll all be here to rise to the challenge. Come what may.

_**For this dance we'll move with each other.  
There ain't no other step than one foot,  
Right in front of the other.**_

_**There's so many wars we fought,  
There's so many things we're not,  
But with what we have,  
I promise you that,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on).**_

**Jason**

A few days after Nevada, muffled noises from Kala's room woke me up in the middle of the night. I thought it was a nightmare – hers had gotten worse and more often than ever. When I opened the door, though, she was sitting up at her desk watching something on the computer. When I looked over her shoulder, I was surprised to see the old news footage of General Zod. It sent a chill down my spine to hear his voice again. "Why're you watching that?"

"Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it," she told me softly.

I didn't know what to say, so I just hugged her. She leaned against me, and I whispered, "I love you – and your big head."

That old joke got a smirk, and Kala bumped her forehead against mine. "I love you too, big brother." That moment told me everything was gonna be okay; we were back in sync the way we'd always been. No matter what happens, no matter where she goes or what she does or how weird she is, Kala will always be my twin.

It's a good thing, too, because circumstances have turned the whole house upside down. Uncle Perry made Mom take time off until she finished her physical therapy, and she grumbled around the house like a bad storm until Grandma and Grandpa Ben came to visit. Everybody but Mom knows the new puppy was a gift to help her keep her mind off things; even Dr. Marrin commented on how neatly they arranged that.

School has been … well, interesting. Sebast and I put a stop to the rumors about Kala pretty quickly. No one gets in fights at Stalmaster, but I don't usually have to raise a hand to someone anyway. All I have to do is stand all the way up and glare like Dad. Sebast, meanwhile, threatens to use his Latino rage like it's some kind of superpower. I think he still feels guilty for having believed Giselle.

Giselle … I finally pestered Aunt Maggie into giving me the truth. Giselle was murdered in prison. Luthor had her poisoned to keep her from talking. After everything that happened, I still pity her. She wasn't a good person – she was a liar, a cheat, and a con artist – but she wasn't _evil_, not of Luthor's caliber anyway. She'd never taken a life; she didn't deserve to die for what she'd done. I think that's what I hate most about Luthor, that he sweeps other people up in his madness and corrupts them. I still remember the one guy on the yacht, Stanford. He seemed like a decent enough person, but he never tried to help us because he was too afraid of Luthor. And Miss Katherine, still running for her life ten years later, looking over her shoulder because she defied Luthor. How many others could've paid their dues and straightened out their lives, but instead they're spiraling further down because of him?

Thinking about that just makes me more determined to do my part. Heroes like Dad and the League exist to protect people and to show them a way out of the darkness people like Luthor spread everywhere they go. It's time I took my place in that battle. Why else would I have these powers if not to use them? I was meant for this. There's no good reason why Kryptonians and humans should be able to hybridize, but it happened, and the result is me and Kala. Of course we're meant to carry on Dad's legacy.

I just wish Kala was coming with me to Gotham this summer. She's being cool about it, but I can't help realizing that the kidnapping was the longest we've ever been apart. We've spent our whole lives together – sure, we're only sixteen, but the point remains. I can't even really imagine what it'll be like not to see her every day. We've got our phones so we can call or text, and there's always the computer with video chat, but I have no idea how I'll cope with not being able to hug Kala and reassure myself she's still there. And no matter how casual she's being about it, I know she's worried too. I can always tell; she might be fooling Mom and Dad, she might even be fooling herself, but I know the truth.

It doesn't help that I'll be missing Elise too. The funny thing about us getting back together is that everyone at school was completely unsurprised. I swear, five different people told us something along the lines of, "Oh, I knew you'd get back with her. You two are totally soul mates." Elise finally lost her temper when one of her friends said it, and snapped back, "Well why didn't anyone tell _me_? You could've saved all of us a lot of time!" I admit it, I laughed, and she smacked me in the shoulder for it.

I'm a lot more careful now about Elise. I don't want to scare her off again, even if I know in my soul that she's The One. I guess I understand how having someone pretty much start naming your kids together can be creepy, especially if you weren't raised by the epic star-crossed romance of the century. But I don't want to lose her again. She knows the whole truth, and she's fascinated by it. I was always secretly afraid that she'd be scared once she knew. I mean, I'm half _alien_, and never mind that the alien half is from Superman. Elise is a self-confessed science geek, so she can't escape the knowledge that half my DNA comes from another galaxy. Yet she isn't afraid of me or my powers, and I know how precious that is. To have someone who knows you that completely is rare enough for the average person, but for me it seemed almost impossible. I sometimes joke that I'm lucky to have a girl who understands me on a molecular level, and Elise just laughs. She knows what I mean.

Now if only Kala could get her act together. She's never been good with relationships, breaking up after a week or two, but I think this thing with Nick is courting disaster. I don't trust him at all. He's in _college_, what can he possibly want from a sixteen-year-old girl except the obvious? And supposedly he's going to be just friends with her for as long as he has to, wait around until she's ready to date? That sounds weird to me. But I didn't get to vote in the parental council that decided whether or not she gets to hang out with him, or he wouldn't be allowed within a hundred yards of her. At least they're not dating; they're not allowed to go off alone anywhere, since New Year's Eve proved they're not trustworthy without supervision.

Kala doesn't need to be dating right now, anyway. She's still seeing Dr. Marrin twice a week, giving him a carefully edited version of the truth. I've heard a lot of technical terms tossed around lately: Stockholm syndrome, post traumatic stress disorder, the kind of stuff you really shouldn't Google if it's related to your twin sister.

She's getting better every day, more confident and self-assured even than before, but I can see that she's still fragile even if she hides it from everyone else. Kala's nerves are still pretty sensitive, so I try to stick by her, just in case she needs me. The first day back at school one of her friends grabbed her arm from behind, and Kala almost decked the poor girl. Sometimes I worry that she'll accidentally break out superpowers in an incident like that. Jor-El thinks she has it under enough control to be running around in public, but I worry about her. I always have, and always will. It's part of being a big brother, I guess.

What definitely _isn't_ part of being a big brother is joining her on the stage. Yeah, I'm doing it anyway. Kala still wants to be a rock star, even after all of this, and tonight she gets a chance to perform with her favorite local band. She got them to agree to have Sebast perform with her. So she weaseled me into helping her in spite of myself. It's not stage fright – I've done recitals, and I don't have issues with playing in front of a crowd. I'm just gradually discovering that the piano is something I prefer to do alone. It's like meditation or something, a place I can disappear into where stress can't find me. I love music, and I'll never stop playing; I just don't have Kala's need to perform in front of an audience.

The song she chose opens with a bit of piano, though, and the Flying Foxes don't have a keyboardist. I've heard the lyrics and even though it's not my kind of music, I see why she chose it. It's haunting, and it seems to speak to our legacy. So I'll play the opening on a borrowed keyboard for her, and I even wore all black so I don't stand out as the only normal person this side of the stage.

I draw the line at the clothes. No matter how much I love my sister or how many other guys are doing it, I'm not wearing eyeliner in public.

_**For all of the plans we've made,  
There isn't a flag I'd wave,  
Don't care if we bend,  
I'd sink us to swim**_

_**,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on).**_

_**We'll have the days we break,  
And we'll have the scars to prove it,  
We'll have the bonds that we save,  
But we'll have the heart not to lose it.**_

_**For all of the times we've stopped,  
For all of the things I'm not.**_

**Kala**

Walking back into my pre-kidnapping life wasn't easy, but I expected that. It's not like taking off a coat and putting it back on again; it's more like Gazeera shedding his skin. There's no point trying to gather up the shreds and paste them back on, you have to grow a new skin from the inside out.

School rumors sucked, of course, but with Giselle gone and Elise, Sebast, and Jason all on my side, we could spin it however we wanted to. It helped that my friends finally met Nick, and he stopped being this shadowy figure lurking in everyone's imagination. Poor guy's been getting hell though, hanging out with a pack of high school brats like us. At least my crowd is pretty mature for our age.

I've been putting off meeting his friends, because I know they're going to razz him when they find out I'm sixteen. Problems like that make me very glad that we didn't go any further than necking on New Year's Eve. I wouldn't say I'm grateful for having been kidnapped and everything, but it did teach me a lot about myself: what I'm not ready for, and what I'm long overdue in doing.

I'm not really ready to go out and save the world; there's too much chance I could screw it all up. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and I know that better than most people do now. Those few days in Nevada forced me to take a good long look at my own soul, and Superman's daughter or not, I have a streak of darkness in me. Mom and Dr. Marrin both say that everyone has that, and he goes on to talk about Jungian archetypes and how confronting the shadow-self is an important part of self-acceptance. The point is, I came pretty close to killing that one guard just because he was in my way. I didn't do it in the end, but I thought about it a little too much for my own comfort. So I need to wait a little longer, make sure my powers are absolutely under control, and learn more about the ethical side of things. The hero gig isn't all swooping in to put out forest fires with a single breath or grabbing bank robbers off of boats. Sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils.

I'm lucky in that I have the same resources Dad had when he started this: Mom and Jor-El. Now that he's speaking to me on matters relating to the cape – not that I gave him much choice – Jor-El is proving very knowledgeable and likes discussing theoretical problems at length. And of course Mom is extremely practical without ever compromising her principles, as well as being really good at playing Devil's advocate.

You know, I reread my diary, and a lot of it is complaining. I can't believe how much I bitched about Mom and her rules. Yeah, some of them are pretty lame, but they're small stuff compared to what I just went through. I'll happily comply with her "all shirts must have sleeves" rule for the next few years. And whenever we get too snappy, we both remember what it was like to almost lose each other. I've heard from everyone how distraught Mom was when I came up missing, and that was even before they realized I'd been kidnapped. As for me, I remember seeing Mom's blood staining the locket. I'd have killed Luthor after that, shot him and walked away without a single regret. We may drive each other nuts, but she's my mom, and I'll defend her to the death: Luthor's death. If he's smart he'll stay far, far away from us. Yeah, I have a shadow in my soul, a streak of ruthlessness that comes directly from Mom, and if I ever come face to face with Luthor again I might tell him he's the reason I know it so well – I might even thank him. Posthumously.

I'm still a little jumpy, and I know it, thoughts like that creeping back at the most inopportune times. I almost punched Melissa the first day of school, but nobody knew yet that it was a bad idea to startle me. Jason and I decided not to tell the whole story, since we knew people would badger me for information. It's getting better though. I have Jason and Sebast and Elise to rely on, and I was right about going back being the best idea. It's hard to obsess about how you killed someone when your algebra teacher decides to show you a bit of pre-calculus, "just for fun". Yeah, thanks a lot.

If there was ever a day when I knew, absolutely and completely, that things really were going to turn out okay, it was the day I walked back into Fuel and Brandon told me three different bands wanted to talk to me. And one of them was the Flying Foxes. I now know what it feels like to almost faint.

See, ever since I was a little girl, I've had these two dreams of what I wanted my life to be. The Lost Princess of Krypton is out of the question; that dream died when Zod showed me what it really was and I realized who I really am. The only Krypton I'll ever know is the legacy Jason and I bear. But my other dream – Rock Star Kala – that's sane and sensible by comparison. And all of a sudden it even looks achievable.

The Foxes actually wanted me to sing with them when they played Fuel next. I agreed on two conditions: I get to pick the first song, and Sebast sings with me. It's my little way of proving I've forgiven him for doubting me. I had to wheedle for him; the Foxes have heard me sing, they know I have stage presence, but he's an unknown quantity. Once they heard his voice, and even better, heard us in a duet, they were all for it. Sebast's voice compliments mine really well, which he sometimes teases is the whole reason we're friends. It's actually more about the fact that no one else except Jason knows me as well as he does, and I can trust him absolutely. He knows it, too. Boyfriends come and go, but Kala and Sebast are best friends for life.

That's why he's here backstage with me, keeping me from going crazy with nerves. Just about everyone we know is packed into Fuel tonight. Even the family, as many of them could make it. And boy, are they gonna get a surprise. I don't think anyone in the immediate family has really heard me sing in a while. Nick tells me I have a powerful voice, and I believe him after New Year's Eve. No matter what happened afterward, I still made a club full of Goth kids dance to Britney Spears. That's power, the kind I can safely use, the kind with no darkness to fear. This is my gift, the thing that's mine alone, and when I sing I feel the most like myself.

It's time. Jason's getting ready to play the intro, and I can feel the butterflies in my stomach subsiding. I hope it's always like this, I hope I never get bored, I hope I can do a thousand concerts and always be nervous right up until the moment I walk onstage.

We walk out, and the applause starts before the first note. My friends and fans are in the audience clapping just because I'm here. Wait 'til I unleash my voice on them. Everyone I love the most is here to listen. I hope that Nana can hear me, I hope that she's proud of me.

I am Ella Tremaine's granddaughter. I am the child of Lois Lane. I am Jason's twin and Kristin's big sister. I am the child of two worlds, carrying the legacy of both. I thrive in sunlight even though I dress in midnight. And I _am_ my father's daughter, no matter what else I am. Nothing can change any of it, and I'd have it no other way.

I'm ready, my voice is warmed up. Jason plays the first few notes, a song everyone here knows, but only a few people are going to know how appropriate these lyrics are for me. The first verse is mine, the second is Sebast's, and then the Foxes come in. I have to hold these first lines alone, my voice supported only by the keyboard, but I can do it.

I am a singer, I am a hero in the making, and I am gonna rock this stage tonight!

_**Kala:**_

_When I was a young girl,_

_My father took me into the city_

_To see a marching band_

_He said, "Girl, when you grow up, will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"_

_He said, "Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have made?_

_Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom, to lead you in the summer, to join the black parade."_

_**Sebast:**_

_When I was a young boy_

_My father took me into the city_

_To see a marching band_

_He said, "Son, when you grow up, will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?"_

Adrenaline roars through my veins as Sebast and I repeat the first two verses and I turn to grin at Dopey, both of us thinking the same thing. Sharing the same smile. For all the pain and glory, whatever the future brings to us, we are the heirs to the House of El. And there's nothing else either of us would rather be.

_**We put one foot in front of the other,  
We move like we ain't got no other,  
We go when we go,  
We're marching on.**_

_**There's so many wars we fought,  
There's so many things we're not,  
But with what we have,  
I promise you that,  
We're marching on,  
(We're marching on)  
(We're marching on).**_

_**Right, right, right, right left right,  
Right, right, right, left, right,  
Right, right,  
We're marching on.**_

_**~Fin**_


End file.
